UC-NRLF 


r  ;•     ,' 


ORIGINAL    POEMS, 


A     VARIETY    OF     SUBJECTS, 


INTERSPERSED 


WITH    TALES; 


FORMING 


THE  LARGEST  MISCELLANEOUS  COLLECTION 


EVER   PUBLISHED 


BY  A  A*  AMERICAN  AUTHOR. 


BY     ROBERT     F  R  A  N  C  LS  .  A  S  T  R  O  P 


PHILADELPHIA: 
E.    L.    CAREY    &    A.    HART 

1835. 


ENTERED  according  to  the  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1835,  by 
ROBERT  FRANCIS  ASTROP,  in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court 
of  the  Eastern  District  of  Pennsylvania. 


Oil  page  46,  Bonaparte's  Complaint,  4th  line,  for  "rush,"  read  ruth. 
"     47,  24th  line  from  the  top,  for  "  unknown  the  strife,"  read 

unknown  strife. 
"      "     84,  23d  line  from  the  top,  for  "  loved  wealth,"  read  "  loved 

a  wealth." 
"  111,  for  "Virginia  Meditation,"  read  "Virginia  Mediation." 


PREFACE. 

IT  is,  indeed,  with  a  considerable  degree  of  diffidence  that 
the  Author  of  this  little  volume  presents  himself  before  the 
Public — still  he  does  it  quite  deprived  of  those  advantages 
which,  in  many  instances,  so  directly  hand  an  author  to  notice 
and  to  fame.  He  has  no  great  literary  characters  to  recom 
mend  his  work,  and  no  interested  press  to  trumpet  his  praises. 

For  notice  and  for  encouragement,  he  alone  depends  on  that 
degree  of  genius  and  worth  which  a  liberal  and  impartial 
Public  may  deem  him  possessed  of. 

He  writes  more  for  pleasure  than  necessity — more  through 
a  natural  inclination,  than  a  thirst  for  fame ;  and  desires,  above 
every  thing,  to  please  and  amuse.  His  heart,  like  that  of  every 
other  man,  is  sometimes  gay  and  sometimes  sad,  and  so  are  his 
writings. 

A  love  of  country,  and  all  those  proud  characters  and  events 
connected  with  the  present  greatness  of  America,  have  ever 
been  his  favourite  themes — and  he  hopes  his  touches  on  those 
subjects,  if  they  kindle  not  the  fire  of  patriotism  ia  the  ardent 
breast,  will,  at  least,  interest  for  the  moment. 

His  TALKS  were  intended  to  amuse,  and  if  they  impart  to 
the  Reader,  in  their  perusal,  half  the  pleasure  enjoyed  by  the 
Author  in  their  composition,  he  will,  indeed,  be  happy. 

Can  he  but  remove  one  care  of  the  wretched,  or  sooth,  for 
one  moment,  the  mind  of  the  unhappy,  or,  for  a  period,  give 
an  innocent  employment  to  the  time  of  the  idle— his  labours  he 
will  consider  doubly  repaid,  and  his  aim  fully  accomplished. 

The  Author  is  much  chagrined  that  the  names  of  Subscribers 
came  in  too  late  to  be  inserted  in  his  work ; — the  obligations 
which  they  have  conferred  will  cease  to  be  remembered  only 
when  his  heart  shall  cease  to  move. 


M183568 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

Extract  from  President  Wash 
ington's  Speech  in  Con 
gress,  1789 5 

Teague's  Harangue ib 

Hope 6 

On  the  Existence    of  God, 

from  a  Sermon ...7 

Scraps  for  a  Moment's  Me 
lancholy 8 

The  Norwegian  Maelstrom 9 

Solemn  Remembrances 10 

Agreed  say  All 1 11 

Approach  of  a  Storm, ib 

Custom 12 

Anger 13 

Time ib 

Cataract  of  N  iagara,  N.  A-, 14 

Logan'a  Speech, 15 

The  Recluse, ib 

The  Sea  of  Existence  and 

Voyage  of  Life, 18 

Original  Man, 3D 

The  Castilian  Exile .34 

The  Great  of  Seventy-Six, 3G 

Washington's  Last  Prayer 37 

Death  of  Christ, ib 

Truth ib 

The  Prospect, 38 

The  Cruel  Boy, 40 

Death  of  an  Infant, 41 

Man, ib 

The  Balmy  Breeze ib 

Tho  Art  of  War, 42 

Hope  and  Happiness, ib 

Union, „ ib 

Doubt 45 

Bonaparte's  Complaint, 46 

St.  Luke,  chapter  6,  verse  24,... 48 

Wealth ....49 

Scraps 51 

The    Indian    Chief  in    the 

hands  of  his  Enemies 52 

The  Congress  of  Seventy-Six,.. 54 

An  Hour's  Walk 55 

The  Great, 56 

The  Magnolia, 57 

Egistie  and  Marida,  a  Tale 58 

The  Shipwreck, 59 

Columbia  in  Future  Ages, 61 

Life, 62 

The  Plain  of  Lexington, 63 

What,  first,  Man's  State  re 
quires  of  Man 64 

Grief  Unavailing, 65 

Battle ib 

Address  to  God, 66 

Fragment .67 


PAGE 
The  Washir  gtonian,  an  Epic 

Poem, 68 

The  Frying  Pan,  or  Thief  Cured.  88 

Poetry, 92 

Fragment ib 

To  the  Evening  Star 93 

The  Autumn  Forest ib 

Invocation  to  the  Muses, ib 

A  Mind  of  High  Degree 94 

Merit, ib 

The  Invention  of  Simple  John,..ib 

Brunswick, 95 

A  Moonlieht  Night,  with  Snow, 90 

Patrick  Henry 97 

Reflections  on  Home, ib 

Friendship, 98 

The  Indian  Captive,  founded 

on  fact, ib 

A  Farewell  to  Mrherrin 101 

Scraps  from  Experience, 102 

October  17, 1777, 103 

Pleasure — Happir  ess, •  ib 

Death, 104 

TheChnse, 105 

Disappointment 106 

Words  of  Washington, ib 

American  Sailor 107 

Immortality, 108 

The  Victim  of  Love  and  Phi 
losophy ib 

Hail  to  the  Nine 109 

Reflections  at  the  Close  of  a 

Year, 110 

Virginia  Mediation, Ill 

The  Yankee  Traveller ib 

View  of  the  Animal  Heart,...  113 

Peace, ib 

October 114 

The  Lost  at  Sea, ib 

Virginia  Hunter, 115 

Impertinence, 116 

Fresco  and  Utina,  a  Tale 117 

Happiness, , 122 

A  Fragment 123 

W  8  Jom.Tviih  &.without  Genius,124 
Pleasures  of  the  Husbandman,  125 
Raghwa  to  Seeta,  from  a 

Hindoo  Poem, ib 

The  Sailor  Repentant, 126 

A  Friend, ib 

The  Lesser  Critics,  a  Tale, 127 

Pleasures  of  the  Morning, 128 

A  Virginia  Barbecue, ib 

The  Drum, 129 

The  Hour  at  Eve 130 

A  Gander  Pull! ib 

The  Honest  Y!  echanic, 1 32 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


EXTRACT  FROM  PRESIDENT  WASHINGTON'S  SPEECH. 
IN  CONGRESS,  1789. 

IV o  people  ought  be  bound  Him  to  adore. 

That  rules  the  fate  of  men,  the  wide  world  o'er, 

Than  we  ;  the  blessed  heirs  of  liberty, 

By  Him  from  bondage,  from  the  tyrant  free. 

In  every  step,  thus  far,  His  hand  is  seen, 

Distinguished  by  some  stroke  of  goodness  been, 

In  this,  our  road  of  Independence  ;  and 

All  the  events  that  dignify  our  land: 

In  that  long  war,  by  which  we  are  unbound, 

In  our  deliberations  he  was  found. 

Unanimous  we  were  :  this  marks  a  God  ; 

An  all  protecting,  all  according  Lord. 

This  greatest  Cause  ;  who  did  our  fabric  raise, 

Demands  our  earliest  love,  our  purest  praise. 

Also,  thus  far,  1  trust,  you'll  join  with  me ; 

That  now,  no  greater  friend' to  us  can  be 

Than  He.— All  join  to  love  this  common  Friend: 

Then  will  our  independence  have  no  end. 


TEAGUE'S  HARANGUE. 

I  think ;  an't  plase  your  honor  sirs, 

A  Tar  has  times  as  rough  as  fears, 

Enduring  weather,  hunger,  thirst, 

'Sides  all  sea  dangers,  last  and  first, 

And  wind  and  tide.    1  think  it's  hard 

That  'ported  sailors  can't  be  spared  : 

Rain,  storm,  and  hail,  so  late  passed  through, 

Man's  face  should  yield  some  sunshine  too  ; 

JNot  like  a  speaking  dumb  beast  sold, — 

Right  scarcely  goes  with  power  or  gold. 

If  you  get  rich  by  selling  life, 

Your  portion  will  be  want  and  strife. 


6 


If  slaves,  or  masters,  is  the  boon, 

Why  not  with  whip,  and  golden  spoon 

These  are  born— with  fetters  those 

For  brogues,  and  iron  chains  for  clothes  ? 

Without  a  tongue,  or  pair  of  jaws, 

Since  they  can't  use  them  by  the  laws  ? 

If  I  had  known  this  much  beside, 

I  would  have  fought  ye  till  I  died. 

To  be  a  dog,  is  all  you  give  ; 

I  cannot  bear  it,  as  I  live. 

But  look  ye,  friends,  all  hands  on  deck  ; 

This  muckle  arm  is  not  a  wreck. 

As  I'm  a  Christian,  I  am  free, 

And  by  my  heart's  blood,  still  will  be. 

You  shall  my  arm  from  body  tear, 

Ere  your  vile  chains  again  I'll  wear. 

What  is  a  body  without  arms? 

\\  hat  is  life  without  its  charms  ? 


HOPE. 

The  proudest  nations  round  us  lie  ; 

Friends  forsake, relations  die. 

Perhaps  we're  deaf,  or  lame,  or  blind, 

Fortune  ceases  to  be  kind  : 

Diseases  threat  the  vital  part, 

.Life  is  ready  to  depart ; 

Where  never  man  e'er  lived  before, 

We,  unfearing,  dare  explore  : 

To  heaven,  by  which  no  soul  e'er  went, 

Hope  may  say,  we  shall  be  sent. 

Acting  thus,  we  ne'er  shall  die — 

This  all  nature  gives  the  lie. 

'Tis  Hope  that  points  our  better  end, 

The  only  good,  deceiving  friend. 

He  can  deceive,  and  act  his  part, 

Can  cheer  the  dying  wretch's  heart ; 

But  oft  Despair,  his  angry  foe, 

Will  him  disarm,  and  strfke  his  blow  ; 

Yet,  even  when  his  friendship  swerves, 

He  oft  the  trembling  Coward  serves  ; 

He  flits  away,  as  with  the  breath, 

And  screens  the  wretch  from  else  his  death. 

What  is  courage,  but  kind  hope  ? 

What  is  faith,  the  Christian's  prop  ? 

'Tis  naught  but  Hope,  but  hope  more  strong 

Am  1,  Christians,  right  or  wrong? 

Our  best  friend,  beneath  the  skies, 

To  keep  his  friendship,  be  thou  wise— 


He  ne'er  deserts  the  Christian  road, 
But  points  directly  towards  God. 
His  presence  there  is  ever  sure — 
Your  presence  there  he  quits  no  more  : 
Hope  or  despair  must  hold  our  reins — 
How  blest  he  who  this  pathway  gains! 


ON  THE  EXISTENCE  OF  A  GOD. 

FROM    A    SERMON. 

An  atheist  will  this  confess,  at  least, 
That  works,  as  these,  a  living  cause  attest ; 
That  this  creation,  in  a  single  word, 
Displays  effects,  a  cause,  and  this  is  God. 
To  finite  creatures,  to  dispose  is  giren — 
Creation,  life,  is  but  the  work  of  heaven. 
Like  produces  likeness,  nature  says, 
And  good  produces  good  in  all  her  ways  ; 
Through  all  the  chain,  of  which  we  are  a  link. 
This  law  holds  good  with  those  who  well  do  think. 
Pursuing  this,  from  whence  it  first  began, 
We  see  that  angei  ne'er  created  man ; 
Neither  can  say,  without  blasphemy  meant, 
He's  self-created,  or  by  accident. 
Why  never  see,  if  in  this  latter  way, 
Mankind  thus  forming  at  the  present  day  ? 
Why  do  we  never  see  the  clods  of  earth 
Brightening  into  life,  in  human  birlh  ? 
Why  never  see  the  dust  beneath  our  feet, 
Intelligently  move,  with  life  complete  ? 
Moving  around  in  animated  forms, 
In  all  the  spheres  of  self-created  worms  ? 
Admit  that  those  created,  could  these  live, 
Could  they  preserve,  if  they  existence  give  ? 
A  God  there  is — a  God  therefore  must  be, 
Uncaused,  complete,  from  like  dependence  free. 
Let  only  man,  the  soul  of  man  evince 
This  purest  truth,  dictate  of  common  sense,— 
Improving  here  from  brute,  to  angel  there, 
Of  all  perfection,  amply  it  may  share. 
Boundless,  inconceivable,  none  will  dispute 
That  these  great  branches  have  yet  a  greater  root. 
Amazing  soul !  amazement  must  produce 
To  view  itself,  to  see  what  truths  adduce. 
Fancy,  how  wonderful  a  part  of  all! 
For  some  ordained  to  stand,  for  same  to  fall : 
On  silken  wings,  in  one  small  moment  flies 
ground,  bejow,  up  to,  above  the  skjes; 


8 

We  back  can  fly,  and  live  all  ages  o'er, 

Or  forward  go,  and  see  the  world  no  more  I 

Receding  still,  we  view  ere  time  began, 

And  onward  see  eternity  with  man. 

Whence  then  these  powers,  if  not  from  goodness,  God 

If  not  from  wisdom,  from  infinite  Lord  ? 


SCRAPS  FOR  A  MOMENT'S  MELANCHOLY 
I. 

Recede :  thou  treadest  on  a  spot 

That  holds  the  virtuous  dead  ; 
His  fate  will  early  be  thy  lot, 

Thou  wilt  as  he  has  fled. 

II. 

His  virtues  were  surpassed  by  none, 
Religion's  prize  he  early  won  ; 
Here  rests  his  body  on  the  sod — 
His  soul  is  dwelling  with  her  God, 

III. 

Alas  !  I'm  gone  ;  I'm  far  away — • 
What  I  was,  oniy  God  must  say. 

IV. 

My  love  is  dead !  this  marks  the  place 
That  holds  the  better  of  her  race. 

v. 

The  eye  that  reads  my  small  record , 
Like  mine,  must  shortly  view  its  LoriL 

VI. 

JXo  ill  he  ever  done  to  man, 

And  peaceably  with  God  he  ran. 

This  is  the  tribute  of  a  friend 

That  knew  his  Christ-like  liie  and  end. 

VII. 

Alone  he  perished,  on  a  foreign  shore, 
But  strangers  wept  his  sad  departure  o'er. 

VIII. 

Ye  generations,  yet  to  rise ! 

Permit  this  stone  be  in  his  stead : 
'Tis  all  of  him,  beneath  the  skies, 

That  once  was  born,  and  now  is  dead. 


IX. 

The  prey  of  an  untimely  death, 
The  little  Infant  lies  beneath  ; 
Scarce  had  the  flower  reared  its  head, 
Ere  the  Monster  struck:  it  dead  ! 
Forbear  to  weep,  ye  luckless  pair  ! 
Prepare  to  meet  your  Infant  there. 
This  life  no  pleasure  can  impart  ; 
Be  yours  alike  its  spotless  heart. 
Enraptur'd  see  your  life  begun, 
And  smile  in  death,  as  he  has  done. 

x. 

Here  lie  together  in  a  common  heap, 
Tiie  ashes  of  ihe  husband  and  the  wife  : 

Together  walked  they  up  the  rugged  steep, 
The  most  deserving  that  e'er  met  in  life. 

They  lived  as  one;  and  Death  marked  out  his  prey- 

They  died  as  one,  as  one,  beneath  they  lie. 


THE  NORWEGIAN  MAELSTROM. 

Timid,  even  from  this  distance  see, 
From  this  small  bark,  the  monster  of  the  sea ; 
So  ravenous,  that  whatso'er  comes  near 
Its  greedy  jaws  must  grasp  an  ample  share. 
Norwegian  Maelstrom  !  axle  of  the  world, 
Hound  which  all  matter  seerns  convolving  whirled  ; 
Machine  of  this  great  speck,  the  awful  wheel ; 
Its  roar  steals  on,  what  can  exceed  the  peal! 
Awe-struck  in  thy  presence,  beast,  fish,  bird, 
And  e'en  the  daring  Sailor  here  has  feaied— 
Hist !  now  I  hear  the  bellowings  of  the  whale , 
He  is  vortexed:  his  struggling  efforts  fail ! 
He  giddy  feels  the  still  increasing  pow'r, 
The  gaping  pit  impatient  to  devour. 
Alas  he  goes  !  his  cries  die  on  the  wave, 
Fie  sinks  for  ever  in  the  howling  grave  ! 
As  souls  condemned  to  everlasting  wo, 
He  falls  unaided  ;  nature  wills  it  so. 
When  storms  arise  all  horrors'  mart  is  here, 
And  warning  matter  tills  itself  with  fear. 
Vortexes  round,  in  imitation  leap, 
Whirlwinds  convulse  the  bowels  of  the  deep. — 
Lo!  while  I'm  painting,  see  a  storm  come  on  ! 
A  storm  !  a  storm  !  then  fly,  or  we're  undone. 
Ye  trembling  sailors  !  why  do  you  delay  ? 
Hoist,  hoist  your  sails,  and  float  us  far  away. 

B2 


10 

Arc  we  not  gone  ?  our  leaky  bark  recoils ! — 
Before,  behind,  the  roaring  billow  boils — 
ISo,  we  are  safe ;  our  anxious  pray'r  prevails, 
Our  growing  fear  in  joy  and  thanks  exhales. 


SOLEMN  REMEMBRANCES. 

I. 

Columbus,  whose  enlightened  mind 
Conceived  this  refuge  for  mankind. 

II. 

Columbus,  whose  prophetic  eye, 
Saw  freedom  in  the  western  sky. 

III. 

Our  fathers,  who  alas  are  dead  f 
Who,  to  freedom  from  oppression  fled  ; 
Who  planted  us  on  this  blest  shore, 
To  be  free,  and  slaves  no  more. 

IV. 

Our  fathers,  who  when  Britain  came 
To  blast  our  freedom  and  our  name, 
Rescued  their  sons,  tho'  yet  unborn, 
From  the  jealous  tyrant's  frown. 

v. 

Washington,  who  led  the  band 
That  drove  the  spoilers  from  our  land, 
Who  reared  our  shed  of  liberty, 
Who  chose  to  die  or  to  be  free  I 

VI. 

Our  sires  of  Independence  Hall, 

W  ho  pledged  their  lives  for  thee  and  me, 
Who  swore  to  sacrifice  their  all, 

Or  live  and  conquer  and  be  free. 

VII. 

To  every  one  who  ever  died, 

Or  fought  for  liberty  ; 
Success  to  every  one  beside 

Who  wishes  to  be  free. 


It 

AGREED  SAY  ALL. 
I. 

He,  who  liberty  would  not  defend, 
Let  it  to  him  be  shortly  at  an  end. 

II. 

If  tyrants  should  outdo  and  seize  our  lands 
Let's  die ;  yes  die,  with  muskets  in  our  hand*. 

ill. 

Let's  have  our  liberty  and  wives, 
The  longest  and  the  happiest  lives. 

IV. 

Let's  whisper  in  the  monarch's  ear  : 

u  Brother  forbear ;  you  shan't  come  here." 

v. 

Jf  we  will  not  defend,  for  which  our  sires  bled, 
Let  others  risea  more  valiant  in  our  stead. 

VI. 

Where  is  the  tory  ?  let  us  call  him  Shoat ; 
Let's  barbacue  him  in  a  glass  of  Port. 


APPROACH  OF  A  STORM. 

Have  not  the  leaves  begun  to  stir? 

Trembling,  starting,  as  in  fear ! 

1  see  a  cloud  in  awful  rage, 

Peeping  o'er  the  western  ridge. 

Again,  more  strong,  the  wind  sweeps  by, 

The  rattling  leaves  no  longer  sigh, 

But  like  the  redbreasts,  swift  as  sight, 

When  hawks  pursue,  they  take  to  flight. — 

Lo !  what  is  that  obscures  the  sun  ? 

The  shade  begins  ;  and  now  is  done  ! 

It  is  a  cloud,  now  passing  on, 

Prophetical  to  climes  unknown. 

The  thunder  breaks  upon  the  ear, 

Its  dreadful  rumblings  do  I  hear. 

Again  the  voice  rolls  around, 

Like  the  final  trumpet's  sound. 

And,  now,  the  lightning's  transient  streaks  : 

Again  the  thunder  loudly  breaks. 

See  how  the  craggy  peaks  arise, 

Charging  towards  the  purple  skies. 


12 

Again  the  sun,  the  clouds  obscure  ; 
Again  the  sun,  the  clouds  roll  o'er, 
And  fixing  now,  their  sable  chains, 
This  dreary  darkness  still  remains. 
And  now  to  fall  begins  the  rain  ; 
And  now  the  hail,  and  now  again 
The  wind  sweeps  o'er  the  stony  plaia 
And  pebbles  fall  with  hail  and  rain. 
The  lofty  shrubs  are  bent  to,  fro, 
Or  shivered  at  a  single  blow. 
The  air,  the  birds,  the  rolling  sound, 
Seem  to  a  single  point  all  bound  ; 
Confusedly  rushing  lo  one  shore, 
Imperfect  seen,  and  seen  no  more. 
And  still  the  storm,  (ho'  now  so  high, 
Kises  roaring,  far  and  nigh. 
The  sky  the  lightnings  rend  in  twain  ; 
ytill  pours  the  flood,  the  clouds  remain  ;- 
The  elements  roar  and  rage  anew, 
Each  seems  striving  to  outdo. 
Warring  'gainst  their  sister  earth, 
A  sister  element  by  birth. 
What  scenes  now  strike  the  roving  eye ! 
The  works  of  nature  prostrate  lie  ; 
But  the  Pow'r  that  laid  them  low, 
Can,  again,  their  forms  bestow. 


CUSTOM. 

By  custom  every  thing  is  swayed, 
IS  ay,  almost  guided,  mif>ht  be  said- 
The  path  of  good  becomes  a  bliss  ; 
(IDs  may  mask  the  shade  of  this.) 
Use,  may  make  this  to  be  endured  ; 
But  its  pleasure  is  never  matured. 
The  road  to  bliss  so  thorny  is, 
liectiuse  the  other  way  is  his. 
He  cannot  know  the  gods  that  be, 
Because  'tis  custom  not  to  see. 
By  habit  we  are  saved  or  curst; 
Then  mind  which  road  ye  follow  first 
If  you  take  the  way  to  hell, 
Custom  will  your  fears  expel ; 
And  if  you  choose  the  other  way 
It  is  the  same  to  watch  and  pray. 
Thinking  this,  which  none  dare  say, 
(Equal  joy  is  to  each  way) 
Our  knowledge  of  the  end  of  each, 
To  choose  the  better  will  us  teach. 


13 

Use  will  attend  us  to  the  end, 

Will  be  otir  enemy  or  friend. 

The  law  to  govern  then  the  heart 

Must  come  from  ends,  or  from  the  start. 

Custom  blinds  the  mental  sight : 

We  may  be  wrong,  and  think  we're  right. 


ANGER. 

Is  blood  thy  aim,  distorted  fiend? 
Drink  that  of  yours,  and  all  beside  ! 
Thy  headlong  step  curb,  and  secure 
Thy  poison,  till  thy  heat  be  o'er. 
But,  then,  thou  art  more  dangerous.     Who 
Can  be  companion  or  a  friend  to  you  ? 
Rave — rend  the  feelings  of  thy  heart ; 
Thou  pain  to  else  canst  not  impart. 
I  fear  thee  not,  if  reason  rule 
A  fool,  for  dealing  with  a  fool. 
Could'st  thou  e'en  hurl  the  skies  on  me, 
1  would  be  safe  as  foolish  thee. 


TIME. 

Time  swiftly  flits,  so  swift  how  shall  1  paint? 

Before  we  cannot  go,  he  goes  before. 

The  present  scarcely  is,  a  thought  consumes, 

And  this  small  part,  if  such  there  be,  our  hope  ! 

We  mark  him  by  his  loss ;  he  leaves  a  track 

To  show  that  what  is  past  cannot  return  ; 

Past  ages  felt  his  arm,  all  yet  must  feel : 

A  moment  leaves  men  poorer  by  a  world  ! 

His  step  is  meted  by  a  second's'breadth, 

Each  footstep  points  a  pleasure  or  a  pain, 

Which  conscience — death  at  last  shall  note  us  of, 

And  God  convince,  or  happiness  or  hell ! 

We  study  how  to  spend,  and  while  we  muse 

He  takes  the  theme,  and  shows  us  nearer  death  ! 

He  brings  a  living  creature  into  life. 

And  next  he's  noted  coy'ring  him  with  dust ! 

Death,  his  attendant,  his  attendant  life  : 

So  till  eternity  shall  take  his  place. 

Flow  precious  is  the  gift,  by  Heaven  designed 

To  form  our  conduct  for  the  life  to  cotne  ! 

Eternity  is  tracing  fast  his  steps, 

And  will  ere  long  begin,  with  ending  all, 

Opening  the  gate  of  justice  far  above. 


14 


CATARACT  OF  NIAGARA,  N.  A. 

In  dead,  in  algid  silence  hear, 

Niagara's  Cataract ;  like  the  sound 
Of  astral  worlds  upon  the  ear, 

If  all  were  hurled  together  down  ! 
Nature  aghast,  starts  back  with  fear  ; 

For  see  the  air  bows  with  the  flood  : 
An  atheist  durst  not  linger  here, 

Or  if  he  pauses  owns  a  God. 
Urged  by  its  prided  grandeur  on, 

Loaned  by  the  King  of  earth  and  skies, 
Until  contrition  now  anon 

Bids  it  not  presumptuous  rise ; 
Obedient,  then,  in  wan  dismay, 

It  bends  its  top  in  ruddy  shame, 
And  bright'ning  with  the  source  of  day. 

Ingulfs  its  head,  and  owns  its  blame. 
Alike  the  truly  great  and  brave, 

T  Resembling  e'en  that  Pow'r  on  high, 
Not  prone  to  injure,  but  to  save  ; 

Ominous  bids  us  not  draw  nigh. 
And,  like  that  pow'r  bends  its  bow, 

A  covenant  with  trembling  flesh, 
And  does  in  magic  colours  show 

That,  unpresumptuous  man  is  safe. 
The  mountain  wall  of  adamant 

Sturdy  as  borean  star, 
Opposes,  but  in  vain  ;  it  can't, 

Worlds  convulsed  it  cannot  bar. 
Thy  God  ordained  thee  as  a  mark. 

That  man,  tho'  great,  is  yet  a  worm  ; 
lie  braves  the  ocean  in  his  bark, 

And  yet  in  thee  he  cannot  come. 
Were  thou  not  seen  where  seas  appear, 

More  wond'rous  than  all  lakes  beside. 
More  apt  to  chance,  would  man  infer 

Puissance  but  to  God  allied. 
Here  !  here  !  in  mazv  wonder  rest 

Flis  optics  swollen  with  amaze  ; 
These,  these  alone,  a  God  attest ; 

Be  humble  w  hile  you  think  or  gaze. 
Turn — view  Strornbali  blazing  far, 

And  Etna,  Andes,  all  on  fire 
Hear  their  thunders,  feel  the  jar, 

View  ihe  whiilwind's  flaming  spire. 
Set  now  at  variance  spheres  of  light, 

Infinitude's  inhabitants, 
See  them  engage  in  eager  fight, 

Each  for  glory,  vt  ngeance^pants  : 


15 

Warring  worlds  asunder  burst, 
Rivers,  mountains,  oceans  fall, 

Eruptions,  earthquakes,  lightning's  erst ; 
Great  Niagara  equals  all. 


LOGAN'S  SPEECH. 

"  To  any  white  man  I  appeal  to  say 

If  Logan's  hut  he  ever  entered  dry, 
Or  hungry,  cold,  and  naked,  came  that  way 
And  he,  his  wants,  rejected  to  supply. 

"  The  war  now  past,  so  bloody  and  so  long, 

Stirred  not  the  foot  of  Logan  from  his  door, 
An  advocate  for  peace,  accounted  wrong, 
Still  kept  he  idle,  till  ye  fought  no  more. 

"  Such  was  my  love  for  thee — my  countrymen, 

By  passing,  pointed  out  the  white  man's  friend  ; 
I  had  even  thought  of  living  with  thee  then, 
But  by  one  man  my  love  is  at  an  end  ! 

u  The  cruel  Cresap  lashed  me  from  your  side: 

Last  spring  he  murdered  all  the  bliss  I  knew  ! 
Cool,  unprovoked.     My  kindred  all  have  died  ! 
My  babes  !  he  killed  them,  and  my  women  too: 

"  This  called  for  vengeance,  not  in  vain  I  sought  : 

Killed  have  I  many,  sated  is  my  thirst ; 
Rejoice  I  at  the  peace  to  us  now  brought, 
But  think  not  fear  dictates  to  Logan  thus. 

"  He  never  feared.    What  for  can  Logan  fear  ? 

He  would  not  turn  upon  his  heel  to  live, 

When  all  is  gone,  which  to  him  is  most  dear, 

What  expectations  can  existence  give  ? 

"  In  other's  veins,  no  blood  of  Logan  flows  ! 

Last  of  his  race,  he  withers  all  "alone  ! 
Who  to  mourn  for  him  of  his  friend;;  or  foes  ? 
Oh,  hapless  being  ;  truth  retorts— not  one  !" 


THE  RECLUSE. 

In  ancient  age,  the  hermit's  peaceful  ways, 
Have  busied  the  poet's  pen,  the  critic's  praise  : 
Why  not  a  modern,  in  an  humble  style, 
Attempt  the  theme, one  moment  to  beguile  ? 


16 

The  point  intended  he  can't  fall  below ; 
Because  too  high  he  won't  pretend  to  go. 
We  choose  our  hero  in  an  humble  sphere, 
And  hope  you'll  read,  when  better  don't  appear:  — 
Young  Ida  was  ambitious,  virtuous,  wise  ;  t 

These  known  to  all,  that  only  in  disguise, 
Great  was  his  praise,  but  this  would  not  suffice.  \ 

He  deemed  i!  little,  for  ambition's  glass, 
Distorts  the  comely,  lets  the  ugly  pass. 
Concluded  thus,  disgusted  at  the  thought, 
A  mountain  cave  directly  Ida  sought  : 
Determined  there  to  spend  his  latter  time, 
Known  but  to  God,  who  would  forgive  his  crime. 
With  many  tears,  he  parted  from  his  friends, 
And  found  the  place  that  suited  well  his  ends. 
From  year  to  year  he  fed  on  fruits  that  yield 
For  man,  profusely  scattered  o'er  the  field; 
And  drank  the  wine  our  mother  earth  distils, 
The  healthful  drink  that  murmurs  in  the  rills. 
As  nature  writes,  he  reads  a  guardian  King 
In  worlds,  in  trees,  in  herbs,  in  every  thing: 
Revolved  the  seasons,  happy  flew  the  hours, 
Almost  without  his  notice  as  his  powers; 
Yet  still  a  worm,  corrosive  at  the  root, 
Would  often  sap  the  joys  of  the  shoot : 
His  social  part  would  dictate  to  him  oft 
An  Anchorite  thus,  he  had  God's  mandates  Fcoffed. 
To  friends,  to  kindred,  often  wished  to  tread, 
But  courage  failed ;  content  came  in  its  stead. 
This  formed  his  doubts  ;  resolved  therefore  to  stay. 
Unless  the  Lord  should  point  another  way  ; 
Should  by  a  messenger,  directly  sent, 
Communicate  the  truth,  and  God's  intent,— 
As  he,  so  many  of  the  human  race, 
On  miracles  their  souls'  salvation  place. 
One  morning,  seated  near  his  rocky  cell, 
His  usual  seat,  a  stone  from  summit  fell, 
The  landscape  smiled  in  every  feature  round, 
And  gladness  seemed  to  dictate  every  sound. 
Above  his  head  the  snow-crowned  mountains  rose, 
Reflects  the  sun,  in  sparkling  diamonds  glows  : 
Great  Sol  himself  exhibits  full  his  disk, 
His  piercing  glances  round  him  playful  frisk  ; 
The  fogs  no  longer  hang  above  his  head. 
Before  the  zephyr,  sprightly  all  had  fled. 
The  golden  eagle  scorned  the  magpie's  size, 
Permitting  her  the  borrowed  song  to  rise  : 
The  gentle  breeze  flowed  through  the  hills  beneath, 
Waived  the  towering-  stems,  and  fanned  the  quivering 
heath. 


17 

To  Ida  lovely  every  tiling  appeared 

But  man:— himself  his  common  censure  shared. 

He  saw  the  beasts  commingle  at  their  sports, 

The  birds,  responsive,  sing  their  cheerful  notes  r 

United  by  nature  in  society, 

In  bands  of  love,  and  genial  harmony. 

Thought  he,  why  not  I  dwell  among  my  kind  ? 

Know  but  their  virtues,  to  their  vices  blind  ? 

This  pierced  his  soul,  he  groaned  a  contrite  sigh, 

Withdrew  his  eyes,  and  looked  towards  the  sky, 

When  lo !  a  form  descending,  caught  his  view — 

An  angel  'twas,  the  heavenly  face  he  knew. 

He  reached  the  spot,  and  bowing  to  the  earth, 

Young  Ida  owned  his  far  inferior  birth. 

44  Rise  up,  ye  mortal,"  spake  the  shade  divine ; 

"  Immortal  I,  but  less  perfection  mine. 

Thy  Maker  sends  me — only  him  adore, 

To  teach  what  mankind  never  knew  before  : 

Thy  doubts  dispel,  and  lead  again  to  use 

Those  talents  yours,  now  rusting  in  abuse. 

Kise  up,  ascend,  from  mortal  bonds  be  free; 

Away,  away,  directly  follow  me." 

On  pinions  borne,  above  the  reach  of  eye, 

The  hermit  and  the  angel  reach  the  sky. 

A  realm  extended,  without  end  or  shade — 

*'  That  is  eternity,"  the  spirit  said. 

Crowds  on  crowds,  like  rolling  waves  advance, 

Urged  on  by  Time,  and  every  other  chance, 

Through  numerous  gates,  go  in  the  boundless  room. 

There  to  receive  their  everlasting  doom. 

The  Angel  said, "  Behold  the  many  doors 

That  mortals  choose  to  quit  the  earthly  shores; 

Pew  enter  those  that  lead  to  endless  bliss  ? 

Make  thy  comments  especially  on  this." 

"  I  feel,"  said  Ida, "  my  commission  here 

Js  to  make  truth,  now  darken'd,  plain  appear: 

To  teach  mankind  (hat  nothing  is  the  name, 

If  Christ  their  guide,  their  bliss  will  be  the  same. 

Here  all  denominations  join  in  soul, 

Each  from  his  Saviour  Las  his  happy  dole; 

To  learn  and  tell  to  human  nature,  too, 

How  many  do  a  dreadful  track  pursue, 

Which  leads  to  that  abyss  so  horrid  there, 

Whose  entrance  is  a  vista  of  despair; 

And  o'er  that  gate,  through  which  so  many  go, 

Intemperance  is  wrote,  and  leads  below! 

Some  eager  there  to  take  their  latest  bound, 

Home  in  unconsciousness  more  dreadful— drowned  : 

Some  careless  what  may  be  their  avenue, 

Drawn  by  the  current,  do  that  stream  pursue, 


And  plunge  unheeded  in  the  dark  extent, 

That  cautious  reason  only  might  prevent." 

"  Yes,  thou  art  right,"  the  holy  saint  replied, 

"  No  longer  view  ;  enough  thou  hast  espied. 

Return  to  earth,  to  dust,  to  cities  speed, 

And  teach  mankind  as  thou  the  knowledge  heed.'' 


THE  SEA  OF  EXISTENCE  AND  VOYAGE  OF  LIFE- 

1  found  myself  upon  Life's  sea, 

As  those  before  me  told — 
(Life's  voyage  through  to  this  a  key, 

If  I  may  be  so  bold.) 
1  knew  not  why  or  whence  I  was, 

IS  or  cared  I  when  I  knew, 
Till  future  years,  as  Feeling  does, 

Brought  Interest  in  view. 
I  saw  the  sky,  I  felt  the  air, 

Millions  beside  me,  too, 
And  thought,  of  course,  these  things  were  there. 

But  knew  the  cause  of  few. 
Behind  me  was  but  to  be  seen 

The  sea,  the  rocks,  and  shoals — 
Was  told  amongst  them  I  had  been. 

Beside  all  other  souls. 
I  was  astonished  at  the  sight, 

Escaped  1  knew  not  how  : 
To  me  before  had  been  no  light, 

No  thought,  no  sense  till  now. 
My  guides  were  sailing  far  ahead, 

Them  plainly  could  I  hear 
Admonish  me,  as  though  they  led 

Where  dangers  threatened  near. 
Along  this  track  themselves  had  sailed, 

Therefore  they  knew  it  well : 
They  told  where  ills  had  them  assailed— 

Of  storms  and  calms  did  tell ; 
But  many  had  no  special  guide, 

Though  with  me  on  this  stage, 
And  others  who  their  aid  denied, 

Though  dangers  round  them  rage. 
On  Providence's  barqurs  we  were, 

Had  been  since  we  were  born  ; 
Designed  by  Keason's  star  to  steer, 

While  Time  propelled  us  on. 
Behind  me  rocks  and  gulfs  decoyed, 

Thousands  before,  around, 
Alike  by  different  means  destroyed. 

Alike  were  wrecked  and  drowned. 


•' 


19 

Death  stared  with  boldness  in  each  face, 

For  each  was  laid  a  snare, 
To  stop  his  victims  in  this  place, 

When  not  forewarned  by  Care. 
I  recollect  that  Childhood's  Coast 

VVas  strewn  with  many  a  toy, 
Which  lured  unsparing,  host  on  host, 

Which  flattered  to  destroy. 
We  swiftly  moved  before  the  wind, 

Although  we  scarcely  knew, 
And  far  the  Isles  we  left  behind 

Were  dwindling  out  of  view. 
Before  us  hung  a  dark  domain, 

Unpierced  by  any  eye ; 
Keen  Penetration  stared  in  vain— 

The  veil  Futurity. 
Experience  and  precedent 

Presented  us  a  mart, 
Our  Guides,  our  Parents  kindly  lent, 

Could  lead  the  doubting  heart. 
With  Providence,  on  which  we  lean, 

Whose  means  our  lives  support; 
If  we  allow,  would  bright  the  scene, 

And  steer  us  safe  to  port. 
Death,  swift  as  Time,  harassed  us  sor«, 

Though  here  lie  smiled  delay- 
Less  frequent  he,  but  yet  more  sure, 

He  hovered  o'er  our  way. 
I  saw  him  seize  so  many,  O  ! 

Some  just  as  life  looked  bright — 
And  sink  them,  for  God  willed  it  so, 

To  everlasting  night. 
Some  few  eluded  his  mad  chase, 

Some  Nature  made  so  strong, 
That  they  protracted  oft  the  race, 

But  all  submit  ere  longi 
Stern  Education's  strict  control 

Yet  bound  my  heart  and  hand — 
Her  laws  were  to  aright  the  soul, 

Her  office  to  command. 
Assisted  by  my  Parents  dear, 

She  taught  my  will  her  rules, 
Until  gay  ManhooJ  had  drawn  near, 

When  ardent  Nature  cools. 
No  mortal  could  express  my  wo, 

No  fancy  can  suffice, 
When  both  my  Parents,  at  a  blow, 

Were  sunk  no  more  to  rise. 
A  Guard,  'tis  true,  was  given  me, 

AlasJ  but  not  as  they— 


20 

Too  often  I,  from  Caution  free, 

Was  nigh  being  cast  away  ; 
And  Pleasure  stood  the  way 

Attempting  all  who  passed, 
And  ah  !  too  few  her  wiles  defied, 

They  lived  and  died  so  fast! 
I  found  she  promised  every  blisa 

That  mortals  can  enjoy — 
iSot  in  future  worlds,  but  this, 

(Those  pleasures  these  destroy.) 
Ho;v  false  she  was  !  for  she  betrayed 

Her  lovers  into  ill  : 
The  stream  which  never  has  delayed 

To  bear  the  soul  to  hell. 
She  stood  not  in  the  natural  way, 

But  always  near  appeared ; 
I'd  learned  her  character  and  sway, 

And  e'en  her  smiles  I  feared. 
Through  life  she  tempts  the  passing  crowd,. 

But  youth  she  makes  her  choice — 
She  calls  the  humble  and  the  proudT 

And  fools  obey  her  voice. 
Whene'er  her  current  presses  hard, 

Beat  your  quivering  helm  : 
'Gainst  her,  with  Vice,  be  on  your  guard, 

Or  ills  will  overwhelm. 
We  soon  approached  the  end  of  youth, 

Where  many  ways  are  shown — 
Where  rare  appears  the  angel  Truth — 

Where  Prudence  scarce  is  known. 
The  Passions  here  are  loud  and  strong — 

Self-Confidence  enchains ; 
Here  Madness  mingles  with  the  throng,. 

And  Folly  ever  reigns ; 
Here  Spirits  hover  o'er  their  game, 

Like  eagles  in  the  air — 
Ambition,  Avarice,  Vice  and  Sharne, 

And  every  thing  is  there. 
I  did  not  know  which  way  to  turn, 

Being  now  for  choice  freed — 
Unasked  my  Elders  wished  to  learn, 

Not  two  of  them  agreed. 
Most  praised  their  courses  as  the  best> 

But  some  had-  owned  theirs  wrong-, 
And  in  confusion  onward  pressed, 

To  be  aright  ere  long. 
Fahe  Pleasure's  track  most  sought  to  gain* 

The  strife  was  therefore  great — 
The  gale  of  Folly  drove  the  train, 

And  gave  them  fast  to  Fate. 


1  left  my  bark  to  choose  its  course, 

The  stream  of  Pleasure  drew, 
And  Dissipation's  Syren  force 

More  strong  and  tempting  grew. 
When  Virtue  caught  my  searching  eye, 

She  seemed  so  tair  and  good, 
1  changed  my  course,  and  tossing  by, 

Destruction's  pressing  flood, 
I  gained  my  point  almost  alone, 

Through  shoals  of  Appetite, 
On  which  I  saw  ten  thousands  thrown, 

And  crushed  beneath  their  might. 
Death  visited  the  good  and  bad, 

As  is  his  common  aim, 
And  his  appearance  made  me  sad— 

The  form  in  which  lie  came. 
Just  when  Enthusiasm  glows, 

When  Life  so  sweetly  smiles, 
When  his  stilled  waves 'in  beauty  flows, 

When  every  sight  beguiles, 
The  Monster  meets  the  busy  crew, 

And  grins -his  dark  intent, 
Just  when  gay  Prospects  rise  in  view, 

The  Messenger  is  sent. 
Some  mad,  pursuing  Folly's  train, 

Some  bold  in  Virtue's  cause, 
Shows  no  respect  in  his  domain — 

He  bids  the  trembler  pause. 
Some  flying  o'er  the  rolling  deep, 

Intent  on  some  loved  Scheme, 
Just  as  the  shining  Prize  they  swrep, 

They  vanish  like  a  dream. 
Home  Nature  still  supplies  with  breath, 

(Those  God  permits  to  live,) 
TJ  counteract  the  Plans  of  Death, 

She  does  them  power  give. 
Perhaps  they  long  ward  off  the  blow, 

It  must  ere  long  prevail — 
Their  efforts  but  assist  their  Foe, 


They  join  but  to  assail, 
ride  of  E 


Pride  of  Existence  hove  in  sight, 

A  Province  decked  in  Scorn  : 
Its  air-built  Domes  reflect  the  light, 

Its  boast  Existence's  morn.   . 
Here  many  forms  were  on  the  wing, 

Perpetual  o'er  the  scene — 
Proud  Rivalship,  its  minor  king, 

Appeared  with  aspect  keen. 
The  Stream  of  Passion  here  did  run 

Across  our  passing  way, 
c2 


22 

And  constantly,  as  it  had  done, 

Poor  Idiots  swept  away. 
They  rashly  grasped,  beyond  their  reach.. 

At  some  enticing  ill, 
And  losing  sight  of  Caution's  beach. 

They  try  the  frenzied  rill : 
But  gaining  force,  it  soon  becomes 

A  flood,  if  followed  on — 
Its  impetus  his  own  benumbs, 

And  leaves  the  wretch  forlorn. 
Destruction's  Isles  no  shelter  yield, 

To  screen  from  Fate  the  wretch ; 
Here  Justice's  rage  admits  no  shield, 

The  refuge  dreadful  Death. 
J. ore's  velvet  Region  now  appears, 

A  blissful  sight  indeed  ! 
Its  beauty  e'en  Despondence  cheers, 

Its  charms  e'en  Hope  exceed. 
The  air  itself  speaks  happiness, 

The  billows  sleep  serene, 
The  tongue  unable  to  express 

The  joy  of  the  scene. 
This  Kingdom  was  of  small  extent, 

We  sighed  so  soon  we  passed, 
But  its  attendants  with  us  went, 

As  long  as  Thought  could  last : 
For  Matrimony  lies  beyond, 

To  some  Existence  through  ; 
Hut  Death  is  with  her  often  found, 

To  drive  her  out  of  view. 
[  now  grew  anxious  to  espy 

How  much  our  fleet  remained, 
Still  Future  fogs  withheld  the  eye— 

The  Past  a  shade  sustained. 
1  scarce  gave  credence  to  my  eyes, 

Remained  to  see  no  more, 
That  were  as  tenants  of  the  skies, 

When  late  I  viewed  them  o'er. 
Each  gale  they  fondly  hoped  their  friend. 

Each  current  they  wished  for, 
Had  helped  their  onward  course  to  end, 

To  thin  them  as  I  saw. 
I  could  but  mark  the  altered  look, 

So  many  round  displayed— 
Those  who  the  paths  of  Folly  took, 

Were  in  other  garbs  arrayed. 
So  many  in  the  midst  of  Mirth, 

They  hoped  so  long  to  last, 
Were  hurled  into  another  birth, 

And  review  of  the  Past. 


23 

As  many  had  foreknown  the  Fate 

Which  would  forward  to  Pain, 
But  had  delayed,  alas!  too  late, 

Till  Death  affixed  his  chain. 
Some  heedless  ran  upon  the  rock, 

They  might  with  Care  avoid, 
Nor  thought  of  Danger  till  the  shock 

Forewarned,  capsized,  destroyed  ! 
Some  placed  beyond  the  reach  of  Harm, 

Religion's  glorious  band, 
Their  Hopes  alone  the  Fates  disarm, 

Death  but  their  joys  expand. 
Although  we  had  advanced  so  far, 

All  seemed  but  just  set  out — 
AH  looked  before,  behind  few  dare — 

Thus  Conscience  creates  Doubt. 
A  rigid  dame  of  sternest  mien, 

Though  long  left  far  behind, 
At  last  comes  up,  and  what  we've  beeu 

Displays  to  all  mankind. 
She  teaches  us  whate'er  we  are, 

She  cannot  tell  a  lie — 
Hauls  o'er  his  books  with  nicest  care, 

Before  the  wretch  can  die. 
To  Virtue  she  is  happiness, 

The  greater  foe  to  vice — 
She  doth  condemn,  and  she  doth  bless 

Each  soul,  whate'er  its  price. 
The  guilty  strive  her  to  allude, 

To  shun  her  piercing  glance — 
Her  strength  if  wasted  is  renewed, 

To  hurl  Despair's  sure  lance. 
Some  dare  not  know  or  own  the  hearts, 

Which  such  dark  deeds  conceive, 
And  summon  up  more  horrid  arts, 

As  if  as  a  reprieve. 
They  call  on  every  Vice  for  aid, 

And  plunge  in  blacker  crime, 
To  hide  them  from  the  hideous  shade, 

But  soon  displayed  by  Time. 
So  Truth  was  hated,  loved  and  used, 

Shunned,  sought  by  good  and  ill, 
And  long  delayed,  and  sore  abused, 

She  was  impartial  still. 
Her  foes  and  friends  in  this  agreed, 

A  heavenly  angel  she — 
E'en  Falsehood  her  help  did  often  need- 
To  all  she  e'er  was  free. 
Religion  flew,  angelic  form, 

O'er  all  Existence  deep— 


24 

Amidst  the  calm,  amidst  the  storm, 

She  still  refused  to  sleep. 
No  heart  but  felt  her  soothing  touch, 

Though  loved  alas  by  few, 
She  blessed  the  cradle  and  the  crutch, 

The  good  she  ever  knew. 
Possessing  all  celestial  grace, 

Her  hand  \  as  shut  to  none; 
She  drew  the  vicious  from  their  place, 

And  handed  to  a  throne. 
E'en  Misery,  almost  Despair, 

May  live  to  die  no  more, 
Though  long  rejected,  yet  may  share 

Her  ever  willing  store. 
The  Virtues  constitute  her  train, 

And  aid  her  gen:rous  plan, 
To  render  Hell,  terrestrial  pain, 

Redemption  unto  Man. 
It  was  a  cheering  sight  to  see, 

To  us  in  Virtue's  track, 
So  many  there  for  refuge  flee, 

When  their  best  friends  attack. 
For  though  Destruction  first  may  smile, 

May  flatter  and  decoy, 
He  may  contain  himself  awhile, 

But  he — \Vo  conquers  Joy. 
He  changes  all  himself  to  Wrath, 

Mis  victim's  hopes  to  fears, 
In  triumph  from  his  dreadful  path, 

He  leads  where  worse  appears. 
Though  soon  Deception  leaves  him  bare, 

Though  all  his  throng  condemn, 
Though  yrice  in  every  form  is  there, 

Filled  is  his  horrid  realm. 
Pain  visited,  untired  all, 

The  souls  of  heaven  and  hell, 
Even  on  Virtue's  sons  did  fall, 

But  as  a  blessing  fell. 
O'er  Vice  he  held  a  boundless  sway, 

Assisting  not  again, 
His  victims  Death  soon  bore  away 

To  his  well-stored  domain. 
la  every  track  of  Life  appeared 

All  hurry,  no  repose — 
Most  flying  from  what  most  they  feared, 

Pursuing  what  they  chose. 
What  they  solicit  as  a  bliss, 

Oft  sank  beneath  the  wave — 
What  they  with  so  much  ardor  kiss, 

Oft  Death  disguised  they  crave. 


25 

And  when  secured,  the  longed-for  toy 

A  disappointment  bears; 
An  unexpected  good  gives  joy, 

Though  dreaded— Plearure  shares. 
True  Happiness  is  heaven's  alone, 

Sad  Trial  all  must  teach ; 
To  Virtue  though  her  place  is  shown— 

On  earth  she's  out  of  reach. 
So  transitory  is  her  reign, 

Below  so  weak  her  frame, 
She  must  twice  visit  us  with  pain, 

Before  we  know  she  came. 
Unconscious  of  her  presence,  till 

The  heavenly  beam  is  sped, 
For  her  return  we  languish  still, 

Ere  Hope  and  Life  are  fled. 
Then  when  she  only  can  be  ours, 

The  wretch  despairs  to  gain  ; 
When  Life  excludes  her  sainted  powers, 

He  will  attempt  in  vain. 
I  saw  where  she  was  never  seen, 

All  eager  in  pursuit, 
Essaying  from  sly  Chance  to  glean 

An  angel — Goodness'  fruit. 
Some  think  the  prize  at  last  secure, 

E'en  then  they  hope  to  sweep, 
But  Roon  the  phantasy  flies  o'er, 

And  leaves  them  room  to  weep. 
While  some  lay  hold  upon  a  share, 

Possess  and  know  the  prize, 
But  grown  so  sanguine  now  they  are, 

They  grasp — the  phantom  dies ! 
Some  make  a  very  selfish  claim, 

Wish  all  herself  their  own  ; 
But  Disappointments  wait  the  aim, 

She  will  not  dwell  alone. 
How  can  a  mortal  dare  to  wish 

More  joy  than  life  excels — 
To  covet  sublunary  bliss, 

A  breath  so  quick  expels. 
Hope  'luminated  every  face, 

Another  name  for  breath — 
It  proudly  claims  a  hiding-place, 

E'en  in  the  coil  of  Death. 
When  vanishing  the  World  is  fast, 

It  looks  abroad  for  rest, 
And  unresisted  by  the  Fast, 

It  leaves  for  heaven  the  breast. 
Though  Death  laid  prostrate  total  climes, 

This  would  not  satisfy—- 


He  was  assisted  often  times 

By  those  who  aUo  die. 
So  many  modus  by  them  were  tried, 

With  him  to  supplant  Life, 
Though  he  so  dreaded  when  espied, 

To  meet  him  seemed  the  striie. 
Some  took  effective  means  to  place 

Themselves  within  his  jaws  ; 
Some  hurried  on  his  flying  race 

For  others,  in  his  cause. 
Although  they  knew  his  kingdom  lay 

Ahead,  at  utmost  near, 
Where  arbitrary  is  his  sway, 

Impatient  they  appear. 
They  often  wish  the  Stream  of  Time 

Them  swifter  on  to  bear — 
Their  hope  is  in  another  clirne, 

Though  Death  may  meet  them  there. 
I  saw  a  heavenly  Spirit  move 

In  solemn  grandeur  round — 
She  seemed  related  unto  Love, 

Her  mien  was  staid,  profound. 
A  cheerful  countenance  she  had, 

INot  giddy  or  severe ; 
Where  she  remained  no  heart  was  sad 

Though  tier  attendant  Care. 
She  blesses  in  the  pilgrimage 

Through  Virtue's  wilderness — 
Between  the  Idiot  and  the  Sage 

She  may  intrude  herself. 
But  Friendship  (so  she's  known  on  earth) 

Prefers  for  her  retreat 
Sensations  of  a  common  birth, 

And  hearts  alike,  her  seat. 
K'en  sometimes  Vice  pretends  to  her 

To  serve  some  special  turn, 
She  then  is  Interest  or  Fear, 

And  flies  with  either  one  : 
Another  life  she  gives  to  men, 

With  her  the  dying  live, 
Why  do  not  all  possess  her  when 

The  gift  is  what  we  give  ; 
Far  on  the  left  ambition's  fleet 

1  noticed  bearing  oft' 
On  some  adventure  fully  meet, 

Reason's  dictates  to  scoff. 
All  of  the  world  they  leave  with  scorn 

Abandoned  long  by  peace, 
Thus  placing  conscience,  life  in  p^wn, 

And  happiness  and  ease. 


27 

No  dangers  could  deter  affright, 

But  onward  still  they  bent, 
Till  even  they  were  out  of  bight 

Of  Reason,  whence  they  went. 
Yet  fancy  stretches  out  the  view 

And  leads  us  where  they  go, 
A  dreadful  struggle  to  rescue 

Fame  from  each  friend  or  foe  ; 
Or  if  no  higher  thing  entice 

Than  riches,  pow'r  or  death, 
They  sacrifice  as  great  a  price, 

And  cease — when  crushed  beneath! 
We  anxiously  expected  their 

Destruction  or  retreat, 
And  ere  they  come  to  Reason's  care 

The  boast  was  half  their  fleet : 
Like  turtle  doves  before  the  kite 

They  fly  in  terror  from 
Misfortune,  ruin,  rage  and  spite, 

Dispersed  before  the  storm ; 
And  many  sink  beneath  the  wave 

When  safety  is  at  hand, 
When  Providence  denies  to  save, 

When  vengeance  doth  command. 
Fair  virtue's  channel  some  select, 

Some  unto  vice  ally, 
Most  on  despair  are  early  wreck'd, 

But  few  pass  safely  by. 
Fame  led  her  votaries  astray, 

Tho'  some  attained  her  bank, 
Fevr  were  contented  with  her  sway, 

All  feared  oblivion's  blank;  — 
Her  treachery  so  many  dread 

That  few  essay  to  gain, 
Her  laurels  flourish  o'er  the  dead 

Some  unambitious  win, 
Tho'  some  pretend  that  her  alone 

Ambition  can  acquire, 
That  she  to  happiness  is  prone 

To  lend  her  blissful  tire; 
Her  breath  corrupts  the  human  soul, 

Blows  pain  along  its  course, 
The  billows  there  more  angry  roll 

And  rage  with  greater  force. 
Tho'  smiling  dangers,  she  forbids 

The  fears  in  her  domains, 
No  rest  is  to  the  heavy  lids, 

Yet  ease  she  gives  or  feigns; 
She  promises  herself  to  none 

But  those  who  crave  or  Ve  got, 


28 

And  she  deceives  nigh  eveiy  one 

If  they  possess  or  not. 
Old  Time,  who  never  stops  to  rest, 

Swept  all  along  with  him, 
.  Still  a  future  clime  to  test, 

The  prospect  ever  dim. 
We  hurried  on — all  just  about 

To  get  to  life  and  bliss  ; 
Hope  suffered  not  a  single  doubt  . 

Concerning  that  or  this. 
Though  none  esteemed  or  sought  her  quite. 

Or  by  a  diff  rent  mean  ; 
Though  all  had  spent  at  least  a  mite, 

Life  yet  was  to  be  seen. 
The  farther  (tho1  it  was  not  so) 

As  Reason's  precepts  tell, 
We  went— the  faster  seemed  to  go 

The  looked-for  scarce  befell. 
Those  who  did  follow  dissipation 

I  must  not  fail  to  name  ; 
I  saw  their  direful  destination 

Pain,  ruin,  wo,  and  shame. 
While  pleasure  seemed  their  only  aim, 

Aud  pain  their  only  dread, 
The  first  assisted  with  her  name, 

The  last  came  in  her  stead. 
I  saw  a  spacious  pool  expand 

And  whirl  its  clam'rous  foam 
In  dreadful  rage,  on  either  hand 

It  seemed  the  sinner's  home. 
Ten  thousands  and  ten  thousands  were 

Enticed  from  Reason's  hoft, 
And  still  delighted  might  appear 

Till  ultimately  lost. 
They  ventured  willing  in  its  pow'r 

Altho'  its  horrors  bare; 
Tho'  slowly  on,  from  hour  to  hour, 

Were  hastened  to  despair. 
I  trembling  asked,  can  it  be  hell  ? 

When  Vice,  with  hesitation, 
Replied,  for  she  herself  must  tell 

The  gulf — Intoxication. 
What  is  the  triumph  there,  1  asked 

Of  those  whom  there  I  spied  ; 
No  more  by  Virtue  to  be  i asked," 

The  hideous  god  replied  ; 
'And  to  annul  the  present  hour, 

Its  precedent  or  weight, 
They  madly  venture  in  Death's  power, 

And  semi-being  state." 


29 

Alas!"  I  cried,  "  is  this  the  gain, 

Is  this  their  object,  then 
To  mock  the  end  we  meet  with  pain 

The  dreaded  foe  of  men  !" 
I  thought  them  Nature's  sacrifice 

To  men's  welfare  below, 
Souls  formed  for  ruin's  sad  surprise 

Not  voluntary  wo. 
Outcasts  of  minds,  the  chaff  designed 

By  Jesus  to  be  burned — 
The  foolish— or  the  luckless  blind, 

Who  their  salvation  spurned. 
My  knotty  doubts  were  soon  undone, 

O  man  of  this  beware, 
This  hellish  vortex  learn  to  shun 

Its  joys  and  woes  compare. 
We  now  glide  swiftly  on  through  age 

When  wisdom  is  at  hand, 
We  see  the  billows  round  us  rage, 

But  at  the  Lord's  command, 
We  early  fixed  our  hopes  on  him, 

He  yet  has  led  us  safe, 
We  see  a  paradise  not  dim 

In  death  through  virtue's  faith. 
We  glory  in  our  better  course 

To  meet  its  end  resigned 
From  good  no  passion  can  divorce 

Tho'  yet  in  dust  confined. 
No  storm  that  sweeps  the  ocean  round 

Can  overturn  our  bark  ; 
Because  with  virtue  we  are  found 

Safe  in  religion's  ark. 
At  God's  control  she  is  supreme, 

Her  crews  to  pay— to  bless ; 
E'en  death  bows  to  our  lovely  queeu, 

But  to  the  bad  distress. 
He  doth  extend  his  conquests  o'er 

The  whole  of  life's  extent, 
Now  his  domain  is  close  before, 

Where  all  will  soon  be  sent. 
How  few  are  seen  who  with  us  sailed  ! 

Of  all  the  mighty  fleet, 
Tho'  but  one  enemy  assailed. 

How  final  a  defeat ! 
How  few  there  is  of  ail  remains, 

These  scattered  o'er  the  wave 
I>ear  up — a  solemn  silence  reigns 

No  object— but  the  graved  — 
Of  all  the  throng  whom  vice  ensnar-M 

In  dissipation's  name, 


no 

And -all  her  host  one  fate  had  shar'd 

The  poison  overcame. 
The  realm  of  age  was  seldom  theirs, 

For  death  will  soon  destroy, 
They  sail  in  laughter,  sink  in  tears, 

And  this  is  all  their  joy. 
1  thank  the  Sovereign  Power  above, 

For  He  has  led  me  right, 
Obey  his  laws,  secure  his  love, 

Let  good  be  thy  delight. 
Tho'  virtue  is  to  bliss  allied, 

Religion  must  attend, 
Tho'  reason  still  may  be  thy  guide, 

Let  conscience  be  thy  friend. 
Farewell,  ye  voyagers  who  sail 

Life's  sea  tempestuous  o'er, 
Observe  my  hasty  record  well 

For  1  have  gone  before. 


ORIGINAL  MAN. 

There  might  have  been  a  being  of  this  earth 
Who  had  received,  but  knew  not  how,  a  birth. 
From  youth  till  reason  should  have  taught  her  name, 
He  lived  unknowing  and  unknown  the  same. 
Far  from  the  scene  of  man's  unmeaning  toil 
He  dwelt  the  sole  possessor  of  the  soil, 
Like  Selkirk  on  his  isolated  clod 
He  reigned  supreme,  exiled  from  man—not  God- 
Kind  nature  fully  had  performed  her  part, 
But  education  still  withheld  her  art : 
Oh,  unjust  goddess,  why  wilt  thou  be  still 
A  flave  to  chance,  a  slave  to  Mammon's  will; 
Why  not  ever  on  the  worthy  shine 
When  poverty  and  industry  combine, 
A  parent  eagle  careful  to  provide 
Hung  o'er  the  cradle  and  her  prey  espied  ; 
The  little  struggler  in  her  claws  she  bore 
To  parts  sequestered,  those  we  named  before. 
A  cliff  projecting  o'er  the  mountain's  breast 
Had  been  for  ages  some  lone  eagle's  nest ; 
Here  now  to  pacify  the  clam'rous  brood 
She  laid  her  prize,  the  little  babe,  as  food. 
(Now  thinking  children,  who,  when  you  were  small. 
Preserved  you  from  such  iM  that  some  befall,) 
And,  constant  in  her  care,  without  delay 
She  took  her  flight  in  search  of  other  prey. 
The  little  eaplets  happy  to  espy 
The  looked-for  meal,  invoked  with  many  a  cry; 


31 

In  eager  hurry  hast'd  the  feast  to  share ; 

When  lo!  the  'frighted  victim  shrieked  despair. 

Taught  by  distress  or  want  to  know  the  paiD, 

They  hesitate,  and  in  suspense  remain 

Until  those  noble  feelings  God  bestows 

On  beast  or  man,  which  goodness  only  knows, 

<Jame,  happy  council,  and  in  nature's  spite 

They  spare  the  child,  and  suffer  appetite. 

(Man  !  know  what  God  allows  to  be  thy  fate, 

To -serve  his  will,  and  also  make  you  great.) 

While  in  their  savage  manner,  void  of  soul, 

Caress  the  babe,  and  seemingly  condole  : 

Receive  it  in  amongst  them,  spread  the  down, 

Resume  their  cry,  and  make  the  hills  resound. 

The  parent  comes,  submissive  to  the  call, 

And  parcels  out  the  luscious  feast  to  all ; 

The  little  stranger  knows  not  from  her  own, 

But  weighs  the  meat  and  grudges  it  to  none. 

Example  formal  custom  now  outweighs, 

Hunger  demands,  and  lawful  habit  pays. 

The  child  unused  to  such  a  savage  treat 

Impelled  by  appetite  consents  to  eat. 

Thus  still,  from  day  to  day,  the  eagle  fed 

Her  common  charge,  by  knowing  instinct  led ; 

The  infant  shared  the  little  eaglets  prey. 

And  grew,  and  learned  to  scream  as  well  as  they ; 

Till  came  the  time,  arrayed  in  plumage  proud, 

Ambitious  then  to  soar  above  the  cloud 

And  gather  for  themselves  the  daily  store 

Which  nature  kind  haih  placed  within  their  pow'r, 

Encouraged  by  the  mother's  tempting  cry, 

They  rise  on  pinions  to  explore  the  sky, 

And  view,  astonished,  from  their  dazzling  height 

The  babe  unable  to  sustain  the  flight. 

Frail  man  !  when  other  creatures  mighty  rise 

He  still  in  helpless  weak  existence  lies, 

Demands  continual  help  and  other  power 

To  save  him  from  destruction  ev'ry  hour. 

A  Bear,  which  sheltered  in  a  lower  steep, 

With  anguish  heard  the  hapless  infant's  shriek, 

And  climb'd  the  rock,  its  sorrow  to  assuage, 

Undmindful  of  the  parent  eagle's  rage; 

Took  kindly  in  her  arms  the  luckless  child, 

Which  dreaded  not  the  savage  form — but  smil'd. 

The  heart  which  God  gave  man  is  formed  for  love, 

From  friendship's  mould  descended  from  above, 

Forsaken,  taught  to  know  the  golden  prize, 

If  not  before.    A  foe  may  charm  the  eyes, 

Souls,  strangers  to  the  truths  of  future  states, 

May  welco/fie  death  and  greet  the  fiery  fates, 


S2 

The  bear  adopts  the  little  stranger  now, 

And  as  her  cubs  to  live  soon  taught  it  how- 

In  days  of  winter,  when  the  iron  sleet 

Compell'd  her  to  seek  shelter  in  retreat : 

Or  when  the  sun  peeped  from  his  zenith  dome 

To  tempt  her  forth  for  pillage  far  to  roam. 

He  was  companion  of  her  toil  and  rest, 

He  crawled  beside  her  and  slept  on  her  breast. 

Thus  on  to  man  he  grew,  and  like  the  bear 

Was  clothed— was  covered  o'er  with  glossy  hair  : 

In  some  degree  his  image  like  her  own, 

And  his  soul's  knowledge  like  her  instinct  sown  ; 

But  still  tho'  recollection,  wisdom's  maid, 

Did  come  not  in  his  weary  doubts  to  aid, 

Allho'  he  thought  his  nature  unrefined, 

That  he  was  placed  not  with  his  proper  kind. 

His  faculties  tho'  sharpened  were  not  keen, 

Mis  mind  as  bounded  by  what  could  be  seen. 

God  taught  man,  and  man  taught  men  again, 

Thus  on  hath  education  kept  her  reign. 

Mortals,  thy  frailties  have  uncased  my  pen. 

Why  need  I  hesitate  to  paint  them  then  : 

Myself  am  man,  I  know  his  noble  heart, 

Yet  he  has  foibles,  each  must  bear  his  part. 

Our  savage  brother— could  that  sway  his  will, 

And  if  it  did  the  beast  was  savage  still ; 

Yet  he  was  barbarous  more— hear  the  tale — 

His  own  confession  let  your  bias  fail, 

As  reason  grew  how  strange  his  pride  did  grow 

His  doubts  unruly  and  his  nature  so. 

Love,  friendship,  gratitude,  now  at  an  end, 

He  was  resolved  to  leave  his  tender  friend. 

Ungrateful  being,  all  the  mother's  care 

Could  not  suffice  thy  stubborn  love  to  share. 

From  man's  abode  he  now  still  farther  stroll'd. 

Fierce  as  the  eagle,  as  the  lion  bold, 

Where  western  streams  along  savannahs  roam 

He  chanced  to  stray  and  to  select  his  home. 

An  island  fertile  as  Ohio's  plain 

fie  chose,  and  unmolested  held  his  reign. 

The  beasts  submitted  to  his  sanguine  sway, 

As  meat,  or  at  his  coming  fled  away  ; 

His  faith  grew  stronger  in  his  bold  surmise 

That  he  was  more  than  brute,  and  in  disguise 

He  took  delight  to  see  them  filled  with  fear, 

And  see  their  flight  when  chanc'd  he  to  draw  near. 

Some  artifice  which  man  is  forced  to  use 

To  get  his  food  he  was  constrained  to  choose. 

Bnoyed  by  submission  up  as  flatt'ry  does, 

He  even  thought  himself  more  than  he  was. 


33 

Observe  it  mortal,  know  that  man  will  rise 

As  high  as  he  dares  seem  in  other's  eyes. 

His  den  he  furnishes  with  mimic  taste 

With  all  the  delicacies  of  the  waste. 

His  days  glide  smoothly  on  from  year  to  year, 

But  happiness  with  man  will  not  appear; 

All  that  lie  should  expect  in  this  low  state 

Is  to  be  blest,  and  not  reflect  too  late. 

Long  tortured  our  monarch  by  the  doubt 

.Of  his  true  grade  he  wished  to  find  it  out ; 

He  knew  not  how  bis  discontent  prevailed, 

He  chose  the  course  wherever  she  assailed  ; 

He  left  his  habitation  and  domain 

And  travelled  far  this  knowledge  to  obtain. 

Tho'  all  his  hope  must  have  been  cecit  chance*, 

The  far  worst  choice  man's  int'rest  to  advance. 

He  lengthened  out  his  gloomy,  lonely  way 

From  morn  to  night  through  many  a  tedious  day, 

Hoping  to  find  some  being  like  himself, 

Companion  of  his  sad  mysterious  life  ; 

But,  long,  success  was  all  that  hope  affords, 

So  oft  more  precious  than  when  gain  explodes. 

-One  morn  ascended  to  the  mountain's  height, 

A  strange  appearance  struck  his  wond'ring  sight : 

Far  on  the  left  a  tillaged  field  extends, 

Waves  its  gay  crop,  and  with  the  circle  blends 

A  prospect  strange  enough,  and  fancy  rose 

Up  in  his  savage  breast  from  long  repose, 

Tho'  as  the  sun  the  sight  of  man  appears 

He  still  needs  fancy  to  augment  his  fears. 

A  form  advanced  upon  the  plain  afar, 

And  lo!  he  saw  himself  reflected  there; 

The  sacred  sight  in  raptures  he  enjoyed, 

He  leaped  and  uttered  nature  unalloyed. 

Still  apprehensive  he  dared  not  approach, 

But  stayed  their  curious  altitudes  to  watch. 

Soon  many  more  appeared,  and  joined  the  first, 

To  aid  him,  as  it  seemed,  to  lash  the  dust. 

Our  sly  observer  from  his  daily  stand 

in  wonder  viewed  the  tillers  of  the  land, 

Afraid  till  long  he  lingered  to  descry 

The  meaning  of  their  actions— to  draw  nigh. 

His  philosophic  mind  the  subject  weighed, 

And  since  unlettered,  strange  conclusions  made. 

Their  minds  he  fancied  to  be  more  than  beast, 

Their  form  superior  in  grace  at  least ; 

Of  any  language  than  (lie  eagle's  scream, 

Or  bruin's  hug  he  never  once  did  dream. 

All  their  appearance  taught  him  to  conclude, 

Tkat  e'er  their  present  course  would  be  pursued, 

D2 


34 

Not  as  the  brute,  and  as  the  insect  not, 

But  this  same  being  ever  all  their  lot. 

How  much  astonished  was  he  when  he  learned 

That  in  this  life  a  better  must  be  earned  ; 

And  all  their  doings  he  accounted  naught, 

For  so  they  seemed,  so  inspiration  taught. 

Considered  well,  he  feared  no  longer  then, 

But  went  and  mingled  with  his  brother  men  ; 

For  as  the  beasts  among  their  kind  agreed 

He  e'en  thought  man's  their  friendship  would  exceed. 

Our  forest  stranger  blest  the  happy  change, 

And  learned  as  man  his  ideas  to  arrange ; 

Received  impressions  deeper  marked,  and  felt 

Than  if  he  long  in  darkness  had  not  dwelt. 

See  sutnmer  blooms  drop  low  beneath  the  beam, 

But  vig'rous  rise  before  the  vernal  gleam  : 

Thus  minds  from  knowledge,  minds  from  wisdom  barr'd 

Are  quickly  stored  when  nrst  they're  well  prepared. 

Ye  wise,  who  know  the  worth  of  what  ye  are, 

The  beast  made  man  thus  with  yourselves  compare; 

Ye  know  the  blessing  to  receive  the  prize, 

The  sacred  privilege  of  being  wise. 

Ye,  who  have  lost  what  few  e'er  find,  a  friend, 

Gain  him  again  the  raptures  that  attend. 

Parents  whose  joys  with  a  child  expire, 

Children  who  know  the  bliss  to  own  a  sire, 

Ye  best  can  feel,  ye  only  can  express 

The  feelings  of  our  woodman  to  possess. 

E'en  all  the  blessings  which  from  knowledge  flow, 

And  brought  the  kindness  of  loved  friends  to  know  ; 

And  all  the  happiness  to  be  a  son, 

And  Parents'  raptures  o'er  an  only  one. 


THE  CASTILIAN  EXILE. 
Farewell !  my  early  home,  a  long  farewell ! 

I  bid  thee  now  adieu  : 
The  peaceful  place,  so  long  where  I  did  dwell, 

Farewell,  farewell,  farewell ! 
Thy  scenes,  once  lovely  to  my  tranquil  mind, 

Have  now  lost  all  their  charms  ; 
nil  is  racked — I  cannot  be  resigned 

To  leave  thee  thus  behind. 
Each  object  no\v  imparts  a  ps.ng  to  me, 

Is  painfui  to  my  view, 
For  I  reluctantly  must  part  with  thee — 

O  sad  !  O  sad  decree  ! 
]No  matter  where  1  cast  my  watery  eyes, 

O'er  woodlands,  or  o'er  farm1*, 


35 

Fresh  causes  bid  the  painful  thought  arise, 

That  fate  my  stay  denies. 
Far  must  I  journey  from  my  native  place, 

Without  one  friend  to  cheer ; 
Each  visage  e'er  must  be  a  stranger's  face, 

Or  an  assassin  base. 
I  am  an  exile  for  another's  crime — 

This  aggravates  my  wo  ; 
1  must  depart  to  Patagonia's  clime — 

Yet  innocent  1  go  ! 
Mine  eye  now  rests  upon  the  silent  spot, 

Where  all  my  kindred  lie — 
Far  more  auspicious  theirs  than  this  my  lot — 

Too  wretched  e'en  to  die ! 
Oh !  could  I  rouse  them  from  their  long  repose, 

1  then  should  bright  appear; 
They  would  for  truth  the  mystery  disclose, 

And  name  our  mutual  foes. 
They  could  announce  that  none  their  name  e'er  bore, 

And  act  as  I'm  accused, 
That  other  hands  than  these  embrued  in  gore, 

Did  extirpate  my  race. 
They  knew  this  heart  for  them  would  free  have  bled, 

This  form  have  lost  its  fire- 
Would  freely  have  been  numbered  with  the  dead 

In  their  defence  or  stead. 
A  thought  which  dare  not  to  pollute  my  breast, 

To  harm — O  !  gracious  God  ! 
My  sacred  father — and  to  be  possess'd 

To  cut  his  throat ! 
Oh !  mine  enemies  remove  this  stain — 

Send  me  an  exile  far  ; 
Your  daggers  draw  against  our  house  again — 

I  only  now  remain. 

Although  no  kindred,  I  have  friends  to  love- 
Let  me  with  them  expire ; 
Grant  me  but  this,  less  hard  your  fates  will  prove — 

There  is  a  God  above ; 
Or,  Lord,  my  intellects  do  thou  destroy, 

I  care  not  how  I'm  used  ; 
If  I  am  exiled,  grant  me  this  sad  joy, 

I  then  can  end  my  pain. 
Alas  !  yes,  I  must  go,  the  tyrants  come— 

They  force  me  from  rny  home : 
Farewell,  loved  palace  !  I  must  go  a-vay, 

Not  blessed  e'en  with  delay. 
Farewell !  my  friends— I  ne'er  shall  see  you  more ! 

No  tongue  my  pain  can  tell. 
i\o  matter,  then,  'twill  be  the  sooner  o'er — 

Farewell!  farewell!  farewell! 


36 


THE  GREAT  OF  SEVENTY-SIX. 
Sing  gratitude  and  honour  to  the  band, 
Who  lived  and  died  to  save  this  happy  land : 
Their  valour,  wisdom,  and  their  worth  proclaim; 
Blow  loud  their  praise,  oh  purer  trump  of  fame  ! 
The  least  of  whom  the  king  might  well  envy, 
And  wish  himself  as  great  in  nature's  eye: 
Such  minds  !  the  choice  of  the  great  1  Am — 
Bold,  honest,  generous, — oh,  what  a  palm  ! 
Eternal  names,  for  ever  to  be  told, 
And  hearts  that  would  not  sell  for  tiny  gold  ; 
Unknown  before,  now  shine  supremely  forth, 
And  awe  aspirants  with  their  rapid  growth; 
Untaught  by  precept  to  oppose  a  crown, 
Swell  high  with  rage,  and  hurl  the  monster  down. 
A  nation  springing  up  to  wealth  and  power, 
Alike  the  blossom  in  a  single  hour, 
Rise  from  the  cradle,  «  ith  a  mighty  bound, 
And  lay  the  struggling  giant  on  the  ground. 
Great  Seventy-Six!  when,  were,  since  time  began, 
At  once  before  such  mortals  found  with  man  ; 
Ten  thousand  heroes,  worthy  to  command, 
Leap  forth  at  once  to  save  their  native  land. 
In  every  rank  a  thousand  virtues  shine, 
Generals  unswordcd  form  the  patriot  line, 
With  hands,  the  proudest  sceptre  well  deserve, 
''eize  fast  the  rusty  pike,  arid  vow  to  serve: 
Fly  from  the  clumsy  plough  of  many  a  year 
And  wield  for  liberty  the  flippant'spear. 
The  Age  which  hound  unnumbered  hearts  in  one, 
Placed  at  their  head — immortal  Washington. 
Gods  !  what  an  army  !— how  could  tyrants  dare 
To  face,  and  tem[  t  Jehovah's  wrath  so  far  ? 
How  else  hut  tremble  at  tiicir  angry  nod — 
The  band  of  Freedom  in  tl:e  hands  of  God! 
As  long  as  man  shall  have  the  sacred  art 
To  prize  true  greatness,  and  to  swell  the  heart 
With  gratitude.— so  long  he  proud  shall  own 
That  none  like  Seventy-Six  were  ever  known. 
Pride  of  Columbia,  wonder  of  mankind, 
In  whom  all  that  ennobles  was  combined, 
Though  now  departed,  mouldering  in  the  clay, 
Who  would  not  honoured,  happy  be  as  they? 
We  swear  allegiance  to  their  hallowed  love 
To  Liberty — (he  offspring  of  above. 
The  blessings  which  ye  gave  to  us,  we  give 
To  those  proud  generations  yet  to  live; 
Or  when  no  mortal  powers  the  ti  ust  can  save, 
That  time  shall  leave  us  martyrs  in  the  grave ! 


37 


WASHINGTON'S  LAST  PRAYER. 

My  soul,  O  Lord !  I  give  to  Thee ! 

Grant  that  I  have  not  loved  Thee  less  ! 

Omniscient  God !  my  Country  bless 
With  Union,  Peace,  and  Liberty  ! 


DEATH  OF  CHRIST. 

Behold  !  the  temple's  veil— 

The  God  of  gods  has  died  ! 
Revolting  at  the  wail, 

The  stony  walls  divide. 
The  hilly  tops  did  shake, 

The  rocks  were  rent  in  twain  ; 
The  'stonished  earth  did  quake, 

All  nature  did  complain. 
The  graves  wide  open  burst, 

The  sleeping  saints  arose, 
Acknowledged  by  the  curs'd — 

Christ  Jesus  by  his  foes. 


TRUTH. 

I  walked  in  the  garden  of  life, 

I  sought  for  the  loveliest  flowers 
In  arbours  remotest  from  strife, 

Where  goodness  reposes  in  bowers. 
Most  ravishing  many  were  seen, 

Whose  odours  enraptured  the  sense, 
Whose  foliage  continued  e'er  green, 

Whose  beauties  an  ample  defence. 
With  surprise  I  beheld  the  contrast 

'Tween  alley  so  lovingly  sweet, 
And  those  which  so  doubtful  1  past, 

Which  are  trodden  by  so  many  feet. 
1  had  gathered  with  pains  and  delight 

A  nosegay  from  Virtue  s  fair  bed, 
When  great  beauty  attracted  my  sight, 

A  flower  with  languishing  head, 
As  white  as  the  sunbeam.    Its  mien 

Was  a  model  of  beauty  and  strength  : 
How  it  shamed  the  dark  blossoms  and  green. 

That  had  bowed  to  its  power  at  length  ! 
Though  surrounded  by  thorns  of  the  stem, 

1  determined  to  pluck  it  away  ; 
Though  painfully  wounded  by  them, 

I  accomplished  the  daring  essay. 


38 

I  entwined  it  with  rapture  and  care, 

With  the  choice  that  hung  at  my  breast; 
'Twas  the  flower  of  Truth.      Twas  so  fair 

It  gave  lustre  and  nerve  to  the  rest. 
Instead  of  being  soiled  by  time, 

Its  powers  cosmetic  increase; 
Its  beauties  admit  of  no  rhyme, 

Its  influence  never  can  cease. 


THE  PROSPECT. 

Young  Edwin  and  his  lovely  wife  appear 

The  happiest  of  the  human  family : 
Who  can  deny  them  ?  I  must  once  a  year 

Take  up  my  residence  with  them  awhile. 
No  noisy  drunkard  e'er  molests  me  there, 

No  boasting  coward  of  his  mighty  deeds, 
No  lying  statesman  summons  half  my  care, 

To  keep  my  cane  within  its  proper  place; 
But  all  is  quiet,  all  domestic  bliss  : 

Wealth  gives  what  independence  doth  require, 
And  future  life  reflected  here  in  this, 

Resigned  at  loss,  for  then  must  others  gain. 
Now  from  the  window  of  the  rural  seat 

The  prospect  opens  to  the  Muse's  eye  ; 
Few  things  arc  Lvoked  the  landscape  to  complete, 

To  make  it  equal  e'en  to  fancy's  whim. 

One  half  the  garden  lies  displayed  below, 
Well  stocked  with  herbs,  for  usefulness  and  show  ; 
Just  to  the  right  the  orchard  bends  with  wealth, 
To  plea.se  the  taste,  and  give  the  lingering  health. 
The  leaves,  designed  to  guard  the  fruit  from  dew, 
And  cold  and  heat,  and  to  delight  the  view, 
Perform  these  parts,  -and  then  a  contrast  make, 
To  keep  the  dronish  faculties  awake. 
The  leaf  and  apple,  painted  to  the  mind, 
Placed  side  by  side,  quite  different  in  their  kind  ; 
The  self-same  brandies  still  upholds  them  both, 
The  self-same  sap  contributes  to  their  growth. 
The  decent  walk  in  front  leads  out  the  view, 
(Designed  for  pleasure  and  for  business  too;) 
A  valley  winds,  o'ergrown  with  willows  gay, 
Which,  solemn  bowing,  dance  the  hours  away. 
In  unison  along,  the  sanded  lane 
Sparkling  like  shivers  of  the  watery  plain  ; 
And  far  around  the  full-eared  Indian  bends, 
While  underneath  the  envious  hay  ascends, 


39 

No  longer  hurtful  to  the  ripened  corn, 

But  most  delightful  to  the  eye  at  morn, 

Each  sprig  in  martial  ornaments  is  seen, 

Like  native  soldiers  of  the  turfy  green  : 

But  ere  the  sun  peeps  o'er  the  Laurel's  height, 

This  false  array  is  vanished  from  the  sight; 

E'en  then  the  artful  rows,  so  neatly  sown, 

Present  a  pleasing  view  themselves  alone ; 

And  then  the  corn,  sublimely  overhead, 

Doth  bend  profoundly  man's  spontaneous  bread  ; 

A  scene  an  Eastern  seldom  Can  enjoy, 

From  Spain's  tilled  mountains  to  the  fields  of  Troy. 

They  may  afford  a  medicine  for  pain  ; 

Virginia  yet  can  feed  with  fat'ning  grain  : 

Hers  is  the  triumph  of  an  ample  store— 

No  tyrant  haunts  the  happy  Farmer's  door; 

No  noble  thief  can  his  estate  annoy, 

And  Freedom,  smiling,  bids  him  eat  with  joy. 

Yon  string  of  green,  like  serpent  at  his  ease, 

Winds  through  the  valley, — mark  the  rising  trees. 

Yon  little  hill,  projecting  from  the  plain, 

Hides  from  the  view,  at  last,  the  verdant  train  ; 

But  oft  see  something,  like  the  polished  glass, 

But  more  resplendent,  shining  'long  the  pass. 

A  modest  brook,  alive  with  fishes  gay, 

There  glides  along  the  ever  busy  way  ; 

The  fleeting  breath  of  heaven  there  doth  rest, 

And  seldom  wakes  emotions  in  its  breast ; 

Yet  still  advancing,  wave  on  wave  along, 

Without  the  aid  of  storms  to  'rouse  the  song; 

Well  tutored  by  the  annual  birds  of  note, 

Which  o'er  its  bosom  in  sweet  concert  float. 

Along  the  stream,  which  seldom  goes  astray, 

To  walk  how  pleasant  at  the  close  of  day  ! 

Or  when  the  sun  begins  his  morning  flight, 

Or  when  ascended  to  his  greatest  height, 

Yon  summit,  crowned  with  bounteous  Nature's  grain, 

Arrests  the  eye,  and  leads  it  back  again  ; 

The  sun's  last  beam  upon  the  scene  hath  died, 

He  goes  to  light  the  mountain's  western  side. 

This  lovely  landscape  can  no  longer  please — 

The  outlines  can  be  seen  :  yon  Joity  trees, 

Stretched  far  around,  like  clouds  with  angry  brow. 

And  Sol  displays  not  their  unevenness  now. 

When  things  below  no  longer  give  delight, 

Above  'tis  natural  to  cast  the  sight  : 

There  all  is  glory,  grandeur  all  is  theirs, 

In  flaming  worlds,  in  awful  suns  and  stars. 


40 


THE  CRUEL  BOY. 

The  Cruel  Lad  (a  shocking  name!) 
Had  in  the  country  reared  his  fame  : 
This  ugly  title  he  obtained 
By  being  cruel,  unrestrained. 
No  beast  or  insect  in  this  part, 
But  felt  his  hand,  and  knew  his  heart  -. 
The  busy  ant,  the  worm,  the  fly, 
Were  tortured  and  condemned  to  die  ; 
The  brute  his  inhumanity  shared, 
And  man  below  him  \vas  not  spared  : 
The  helpless  or  unfortunate, 
With  him  met  a  common  fate. 
Admocished  by  his  friends,  who  knew. 
And  often  punished  by  them,  too, 
He  yet  remained  the  same  bad  boy., 
As  if  his  fellows'  woes  his  joy- 
'Shamed  and  despised,  each'one  his  foe- 
No  peace  or  pleasure  did  he  know  : 
Nothing  prospered  that  he  done, 
And  all  his  friends  began  to  shun. 
A  fever  seized  the  cruel  lad, 
Which  made  him  very  sick  and  sad  : 
He  thought  of  all  his  cruelty, 
And  was  afraid  to  live  or  die. 
At  last  he  got  a  slight  relief, 
Which  soothed  the  raging  of  his  grief. 
He  promised  God,  if  he  would  spare, 
To  shun  his  former  ways  with  care : 
On  no  account  so  bad  to  be, 
As  thus  to  harm  His  family. 
The  Lord  was  pleased  to  hear  his  voice, 
For  to  make  happy,  is  his  choice. 
From  that  moment,  strange  to  tell, 
He  better  grew,  and  so  got  well ; 
Nor  was  he  ever  after  bad, 
Nor  was  he  called  the  Cruel  Lad  ; 
But  formed  anew  his  better  plan, 
And  grew  to  be  a  good  young  man. 
Oh !  what  a  pity  that  he  would 
Continue  bad,  and  not  grow  good, 
Till  all  ihis  pain  he  had  enduieci, 
So  tick  almoit  not  to  be  cured  ! 


41 


DEATH  OF  AN  INFANT. 

Once  death  was  satiate  with  age, 
(Its  grandsire  and  its  sire  slain) — 
The  little  infant  felt  his  pain — 

(Its  name  is  on  no  other  page.) 

(The  hideous  monarch  laughs  at  tears, 
The  best  of  nature  feel  his  sway — 
The  richer  prize  he  takes  away, 

And  lends  to  meaner  souls  his  fears.) 

The  infant's  cradle  was  his  prey, 
The  wise  are  undetermined— (why  ?) 
Its  tenants  are  prepared  to  die, 

But  human  nature  courts  delay. 

I  can't  forget  that  direful  night, 
The  weeping  parent's  Hope  denied — 
The  little  angel  smiled  and— died  ! 

But  Death  e'en  smiles  cannot  affright. 

Pause,  Reader  !  think  on  the  decree- 
God  said  all  flesh  shall  taste  of  death- 
Early  we  must  resign  our  breath, 

For  ever,  as  we  are  to  be  ! 

And  think  what  grief,  what  tears  avail, 
To  stay  the  doom  Jehovah  willed  I 
Grieve  not,  although  with  terror  filled— 

To  God  we  journey  through  the  vale. 

V/hen  children  or  when  parents  die, 
Start  not  at  theirs,  but  at  thy  fate- 
Too  soon  thou  canst  not,  but  too  late 

Thou  must  be,  if  thou  hope  deny. 

MAN. 
Nature  denies  that  man  knows  man ; 

He's  wise,  he's  foolish,  a  slave,  a  kino- : 
He  nothing  does— all  that  he  can, 

He's  something,  nothing,  and  every  thing. 

THE  BALMY  BREEZE. 

Hist!  hear  amongst  the  parted  trees, 
A  voice  that  soothes  the  ear — 
So  gently  whispering!— drawing  near, 

It  is  the  fluttering  evening- breeze. 

Not  like  the  force  which  drives  the  storm- 
Not  like  the  rudely-flashing  then— 
But,  like  the  fan  of  weary  men, 

It  breathes  along  its  tonic  form. 


42 

Just  with  a  motion,  giving  Jife, 
It  wakes  the  rustling  of  the  spray, 
Though  it  doth  timidly  essay 

To  stop  its  course,  short  is  the  strife. 

Through  every  chink  it  makes  its  way, 
To  whisper  echoes  unto  all : 
It  is  a  feast  that  does  not  pall 

At  sleeping  night,  or  waking  day. 

Though  known  to  be,  'tis  seen  by  none 
Effects  are  seen,  the  cause  is  not,— 
And  this  is  our  present  lot, 

As  it  respects  a  living  God. 


THE  ART  OF  WAR. 

'Tis  sometimes  noble  to  outdo  a  foe 
By  force  of  arms,  or  military  show  ; 
But  then  he  never  can  become  your  friend. 
For  means  so  harsh  the  sufferer  offend. 
Far  much  more  noble  'tis  by^harmless  word 
To  conquer  enemies,  than  by  the  sword : 
Convince  him  of  the  wrong,  and  that  will  do, — 
He'll  conquer  then  himself,  I  warrant  you. 
But,  as  in  other  contests,  you'll  provide 
To  have  the  sword  of  Right  upon  your  side ; 
And  now  you've  learned  to  treat  a  fallen  foe, — 
To  treat  the  triumph  next,  it's  well  to  know  : 
Use  it  as  though  'twas  e'en  your  own  defeat, 
And  then  the  Victory  will  be  complete. 


HOPE  AND  HAPPINESS. 

Why,  then,  should  men  anticipate, 

When  unlooked-for  success 
Than  joy  coming,  as  by  fate, 

Is  nearer  happiness  ? 
And  why  should  wishes,  realized, 

With  us  attain  such  scope?— 
Be  thus  an  image  to  be  prized, 

When  worse 'than  any  hope. 


UNION. 

That  which  holds  the  blessed  Powers  in  one— 
The  Holy  Ghost,  the  Father  and  the  Son— 
Is  Golden  Union,  strength  of  weak  and  strong. 
And  to  the  mighty  ever  must  belong. 


43 

Before  Division,  strength  must  melt  away. 

The  powerful,  disjoined,  must  into  naught  decay ; 

The  earth,  in  compact  with  her  holy  Sire, 

Can  never,  nor  her  family  expire. 

But  once  withdrawn  from  the  alliance,  oh, 

She  sinks  to  ruin — they  to  endless  wo  ! 

These  mighty  worlds,  which  o'er  creation  roll, 

Pervaded  by  one  concert,  and  one  soul, 

Must  still  exist,  each  unto  each  a  stay, 

And  in  an  awful  grandeur,  still  delay. 

But  if  one  mite's  dismembered,  it  must  fall, 

And  in  a  common  ruin  hurl  them  all ! 

The  sand,  which  dances  scattered  in  the  tide, 

Enmassed,  doth  bound  the  ocean,  and  doth  realms 

divide. 

Thus  strength  of  worlds,  the  strength  of  land  and  sea. 
Alone  consists  in  mighty  Unity  : 
In  every  thing  her  good  intent  is  seen, 
Not  more  in  planets,  than  in  states  and  men. 
Where  Union  reigns,  from  Michigan  to  Greece, 
Joy  must  be  there,  invulnerable  peace  ; 
Though  peace  her  influence,  and  peace  her  law, 
Dreadful  in  fight,  how  bold  when  bold  in  war  ! 
Her  bands  are  interest,  difficult  to  make, 
Secure  when  made,  still  easy  yet  to  break  ; 
A  friend  of  peace,  and  happiness'  ally, 
And  nature's  gift,  and  incense  to  the  sky, 
Of  heavenly  birth — what  higher  can  exalt  ? 
JNot  prized  by  man,  then  man  must  be  in  fault. 

When  getting  old,  the  world  got  crazy  once, 
('Tis  not  uncommon,  she  is  such  a  dunce) — 
One  half"  at  daggers  drawn"  against  the  rest, 
And  those  who  suffered  most  were  all  the  best: 
These,  envied  and  despised,  were  sore  harassed— 
Still  unredressed  their  wrongs — and  so  it  passed. 
Yet  not  content,  on  God  they  fix  their  eye, 
And  every  sentence  is  a  prayer  on  high  : 
Weighed  down  with  burdens,  scarcely  to  be  borne, 
From  age  to  age  the  wretched  Children  mourn. 
At  last  an  angel  from  the  holy  skies, 
Descended  to  the  earth,  and  bade  them  rise : 
(Came  as  to  Israel — not  to  Israel  came, 
Nor  to  one  tribe— they  had  no  common  name) — 
Bade  them  make  ready,  to  a  land  repair, 
Designed  for  them  and  for  their  seed,  afar; 
"  Far  o'er  the  waves,  which  man  has  never  dared, 
But  God  is  there,  and  He  will  be  your  guard; 
Fie  bids  me  lead  you  to  this  foreign  land, 
Which  I  have  found,  at  His  divine  command. 


44 

Where  now  these  ills,  which  so  rnolc-st  you  here. 

Shall  ne'er  have  power  ever  to  appear, 

If  ye  but  mind  the  mandates  which  I  bring, 

From  time  to  time,  from  your  Almighty  King  !" 

The  Children's  joys  the  power  of  speech  excel, 

Scarce  less  o'crjoyed  the  messenger  to  tell — 

And  gladly  they  prepare,  without  delay, 

To  follow  him  to  regions  far  away. 

Still  from  all  countries,  without  end  they  come. 

To  this  fair  land,  to  each  oppressed  a  home  : 

They  flourish  and  increase,  from  age  to  age, 

Free  from  the  ill,  cursed  persecution's  rage  ; 

Enjoying  all  the  bliss  of  liberty, 

With  all  the  safety,  too,  of  Unity. 

The  envying  world,  resolved  on  their  decline. 

To  crush  the  little  family  combine  : 

But  God,  still  kind  unto  distress,  in  love, 

Sent  to  their  help  an  angel  from  above ; 

Ennerv'd  his  arm,  to  conquer  all  their  foes, 

And  to  unburden  them  of  all  their  woes. 

His  time  fulfilled,  he  leaves  {hem  for  the  skies, 

But  gives  them  law  and  council  ere  he  dies ; 

His  parting  words  (rebellion  not  to  read, 

And  far  more  treasonable  not  to  heed,) 

Are  handed  to  the  weeping  land  forlorn, 

Embalmed  in  love.    The  sacred  Rule  goes  on— 

"  All  other  arts  your  reason  will  you  teach ; 

This  learn  from  God — the  interest  of  each. 

Be  all  in  One,  ye  chosen  people  be, 

United  in  the  cause  of  Liberty  : 

From  north  to  south,  from  east  to  west  unite, 

Beneath  this  blessed  banner — Union's  right. 

Then  will  you  flourish  to  the  end  of  time, 

To  court  example,  and  to  honour  rhyme  : 

The  tyrant's  check,  the  slave's  Canaan  State, 

Your  own  dear  Country,  happy  more  than  great, 

Your  realms  shall  stretch  beyond  wild  fancy's  eye, 

O'er  the  delighted  earth,  beneath  the  smiling  sky. 

All  other  names  your  own  shall  far  transcend, 

Be  nature's  life  your  time,  and  God  your  friend  : 

But  disobey  his  mandates,  part  in  two, 

Then  will  he  rase  you  from  creation's  view  ; 

Your  name  shall  be  no  more  on  history's  page, 

Or  to  instruct  the  statesman  or  the  sage. 

You  shall  be  swept  unworthy  from  the  earth, 

Your  death  as  horrid  as  your  glorious  birth  : 

Or  spared  the  meanest  despot  to  amuse, 

Who  shall  to  bind  you  condescending  choose  : 

Those  hands,  free  as  the  greatest  monarch's  born, 

Shall  draw  their  water,  and  shall  grind  their  corn  ; 


45 

The  just  abhorrence  of  the  world  beside, 
And  'slaves  shall  learn  your  meanness  to  deride. 
These  necks  so  stiff  and  unsubmissive  now, 
Shall  then  unto  the  yoke  most  servile  bow  : 
Unto  the  vilest  slave  who  ploughs  your  field, 
Ye  then  shall  tamely  and  more  servile  yield. 
But,  oh  !  ye  blest — far  other  be  your  fate  ! 
Then  love  your  Union  as  you  Ruin  hate. 
If  thus  far  right,  in  all  you  shall  be  right, 
And  thus  far  blest,  you  shall  be  happy  quite." 
The  sainted  Chief  doth  from  the  earth  ascend, 
And  thus  his  office  and  his  precepts  end. 
All  ye  whose  hopes  on  Independence  lie, 
Should  deign  to  scan  this  with  a  careful  eye ; 
Hear  what  the  Seraph  of  bold  Freedom  said, 
if  ye  should  wish  your  triumphs  ne'er  to  fade. 
Americans  !  especially  take  care 
That  you  to  this  Deliverer  give  ear ! 
If  you  should  disregard  his  warning  voice, 
Then  will  his  'bodings  be  your  only  choice. 
What  he  anticipates,  if  you  obey, 
On  'tother  han  1  shall  be  your  own  one  day. 


DOUBT. 

Oh,  cruel  Doubt !  than  ills  disclosed  is  worse; 
But  that  the  will  of  God  it  were  a  curse ! 
If  bliss  shall  be  my  lot,  in  coming  years, 
Why  dost  thou  counterbalance  it  with  fears  ? 
If  sorrow  or  if  ill,  'tis  fully  bad — 
Why  dost  thou  add  thyself  to  make  it  doubly  sad  ? 
Why  dost  thou  still  intrude  when  doing  right  ? 
Success  1  wish  insured.     Cleanse  my  sight 
If  I  be  wrong— the  self-same  wish  is  mine- 
Let  certainty  upon  my  object  shine. 
Convince  me  I  am  wrong,  and  save  from  sin, 
That  I  no  triumph  but  disgrace  can  win. 
Thus  far  considered,  shows  a  foe  thou  art, 
To  rack  the  judgment,  and  to  'snare  the  heart : 
Therefore  thou  must  be,  unto  God  and  man, 
An  enemy,  no  further  if  we  scan. 
But  then  when  doing  ill,  if  thou  shouldst  hide. 
To  do  the  same,  when  well  thou  dost  provide. 
Man  is  more  prone  to  do  the  bad  than  good — 
Therefore  he's  oftener  in  the  sinning  mood. 
And  many  times,  when  he  intends  to  do 
A  wrong,  a  right  he  may,  no  doubt,  pursue  ; 
Thou  also  veileth  the  certain  ill  to  come, 
And  from  a  plain  display  withholds  his  doom  ; 

£2 


46 

Forbearing  to  pain  him  with  a  certainty. 
Delaying  with  thyself  a  torment  yet  to  be. 
If  this  will  not  excuse  thee,  I  know  not 
What,  in  thy  exculpation,  can  be  brought. 
Thou  dost  the  foresight  of  an  ill  restrain, 
But  then  thou  art  no  preferable  pain  ; 
And  if,  with  chance,  thou  makest  a  compact, 
And  lead  the  ill-intending  well  to  act- 
When  aiming  right,  as  has  been  said  before, 
We  may  do  wrong,  through  thy  invidious  poorer- 
Then  take  thee  on  the  whole,  as  first  was  said, 
Thou  art  to  man  an  unpropitious  shade: 
A  great  tormentor  of  him  here  below, 
Whom  hope  cannot  disarm  of  all  thy  wo. 


BONAPARTE'S  COMPLAINT. 

Cease,  nature  cease,  a  cheerful  sound, 

Be  still,  or  join  the  mournful  choir, 
Ye  Zephyrs  creep  in  silence  round, 

Or  in  a  solemn  rush  expire. 
Cease  little  birds  f»nd  beasts,  be  still 

Ye  brooks  that  murmur  to  the  moon, 
Hush  ey'ry  discord  on  the  hill 

And  in  the  vale,  all  but  a  moa  n. 
Where  yonder  valley  banks  the  deep 

A  slave  of  tyrants  sits  alone; 
We  view  him  from  the  rocky  steep, 

And  hear,  with  awe,  a  monarch  mourn. 

'•  Oh  Freedom,  fair  goddess,  return, 

And  give  unto  Bonaparte  wings  ; 
Have  1  injured  that  thou  shouldst  thus  spurn, 

Art  thou  frightened  from  soldiers  and  kings? 
In  vain  have  1  conquered  thy  foes, 

Are  they  risen  in  still  greater  strength, 
The  cause  of  my  bondage  disclose, 

Approach  me  in  life  or  in  death. 
Do  these  mountains  of  iron  exclude, 

Does  Helena's  bosom  not  bear 
A  cliff  for  thy  seat  .•*  though  so  rude, 

Thou  canst  bless  by  thy  residence  there. 
Transport  me  to  regions  away, 

If  solitude  bind  with  her  laws, 
But  give  me  thy  presence  I  pray, 

Permit  me  to  die  in  thy  cause. 
Oh  Britons,  ye  boast  to  be  free, 

Why  consign  Napoleon  to  chains, 
Why  dare  fix  your  shackles  on  me 

While  justice  in  heaven  remains. 


47 

"  Jehovah  will  grant  as  ye  give, 

He  freedom  on  all  doth  oestow, 
How  can  ye  expect  free  to  live 

When  bind  ye  Napoleon  so. 
America,  happiest  land, 

I  would  fly  to  thy  enfranchised  shore, 
1  would  freely  obey  or  command, 

I  would  taste  of  cursed  bondage  no  more. 
Oh  Countrymen  cease  to  be  slaves, 

With  you  let  your  Emperor  fly 
To  freedom,  if  in  our  graves, 

Frenchmen  be  freemen  or  die  1 
Brave  soldiers,  why  sleep  ye  so  long, 

Who  expired  unconquered  encore  ; 
No  hearts  beat  for  Bonaparte  strong, 

Rise,  rush  as  to  vict'ry  before. 
But  loose  me  ye  nations  around, 

Wink  not  at  the  direful  deed, 
Ask  conscience  for  what  1  am  bound, 

Know  conscience  stern  justice  must  heed, 
Jehovah  did  never  ordain 

A  lord  over  freedom  or  life, 
Or  Bonaparte  would  not  complain, 

His  days  had  yet  unknown  the  strife. 
Ah,  most  wretched  of  beings  am  I, 

The  world  is  determined  to  crush, 
I  will  not  be  racked  by  a  sigh, 

Nor  will  I  as  cowardly  hush. 
Though  mortals  hear  not  my  complaint, 

1  will  tell  to  the  waves  of  the  sea, 
I  will  tell  what  my  fancy  doth  paint, 

I  will  tell  what  a  mortal  can  be. 
In  bondage  1  still  must  remain  ! 

For  nations  against  me  combine.,. 
No  friend  shall  I  e'er  see  again, 

For  none  dare  profess  to' be  mine. 
When  I'm  silently  cold  in  the  clay, 

But  then  will  my  name  be  revered  ; 
When  tyrants  are  passing  away, 

The  example  I  gave  will  be  cheered. 
Ere  globes  into  nothing  shall  melt, 

Barbarians  shall  civilized  be ; 
Blest  liberty  shall  have  been  felt, 

All  regions  shall  have  been  free. 
I  have  tempted  ambition  too  far, 

Though  liberty  with  it  might  smile ; 
My  ambition  was  freedom  and  war, 

My  fortune  was  friendly  awhile. 
I'm  shipwrecked,  I'm  enslaved,  I  am  curst 

The  current  which  wafted  so  fast, 


48 

"  That  led  me  so  friendly  at  first 

Has  changed  its  direction  at  last. 
A  mortal,  a  worm  must  be  still, 

If  he  reaches  too  far  from  his  span 
He  yields  to  superior  will, 

Destroyed  to  show  he  is  man. 
A  being  exiled  from  mankind, 

Despairing  and  friendless  alone  ! 
Oh  fortitude,  eye  of  the  blind, 

There  is  comfort  where  virtue  is  known 
Each  being  a  foe.     O  'tis  hard 

I  am  watched,  I  am  dreaded  by  all, 
The  meanest  of  dastards  prepared 

To  laugh  at  Napoleon's  fall. 
To  misfortune  the  hero  must  yield,. 

Adversity  will  humble  the  great, 
The  coward  deserves  not  a  shield, 

And  man  must  submit  to  his  fate." 


ST.  LUKE— CHAPTER  VI.  VERSE  24- 

Wo  to  the  rich,  if  not  of  heaven 
Their  consolation  has  been  given. 
Wo  unto  you  that  satiate  are, 
Hunger  shall  ever  be  your  share- 
Wo  unto  you  that  laughter  keep  , 
For  ye  shall  mourn  and  ye  shall  weep. 
Wo  unto  you  of  whom  all  men 
Shall  speak  in  praise  and  honor  then. 
So  spake  their  fathers  when  of  old 
False  prophets  came,  and  wonders  told. 

But  say  I  unto  you  who  hear 

Let  foes  your  loving  kindness  share. 

Bless  them  that  curse  you,  sway  your  will 

To  pray  for  them  that  use  you  ill  j 

And  unto  those  that  smite  one  cheek, 

The  other  offer  ye  as  meek, 

And  him  that  takes  thy  cloak,  I  say 

Permit  to  take  your  coat  away; 

Give  all  that  ask,  none  do  ye  spurn, 

Of  him  that  takes  ask  no  return. 

As  you  wish  men  to  do  to  you 

So  do  to  them  whate'er  ye  do. 

As  God  is  merciful  so  ye 

His  children  likewise  do  ye  be* 


49 

J  udge  not,  condemn  not ;  then  will  Heav'n 
So  deal  by  you,  if  you've  forgiven  : 
Give — again  it  shall  be  given. 
With  the  same  measure  that  ye  deign 
To  give,  it  shall  be  given  again. 

WEALTH. 

Let  those  who  wish  have  sordid  wealth  for  me, 
All  that  I  ask  is  a  sufficiency; 
But  give  me  this,  and  give  me  peace  and  health. 
What  miser  can  desire  a  greater  wealth. 
Or  give  me  but  content,  take  all  the  rest. 
With  her  alone  content  I  to  be  blest. 
Give  me  enjoyment  and  poverty, 
Rather  than  sorrow  and  immensity. 
Give  me  the  riches  which  my  wants  restrain; 
But  give  me  not  the  indigence  of  gain  : 
Or  give  me  wisdom  heavier  than  gold, 
Give  me  the  treasure  which  cannot  be  sold, 
With  that  111  buy  (for  with  it  can  be  bought) 
A  happiness  more  worthy  to  be  sought. 
The  treasures  which  the  richest  mines  unfold 
Are  merely  trash  not  worthy  to  be  told. 
The  greatest  riches  lie  within  a  thought, 
The  rest  is  more  than  worthless,  less  than  naught. 
Curse  of  mankind,  be  ever  gone  from  me, 

0  may  1  never  be  possessed, 
If  1  cannot  be  satisfied  with  thee, 

1  destitute  must  then  be  blessed. 
Yes,  go  1  pray  like  any  other  curse, 

Stay  not  because  tnou  seern'st  to  shine, 
My  heart  I  value  more  than  my  purse, 

My  soul  more  than  each  ;  it  is  divine. 
Come  poverty  with  happiness  I  pray, 

If  wealth  is  ever  found  with  care, 
For  care  is  seldom  else  than  misery, 

And  misery  is  soon  despair. 
Let  those  who  wish,  take  misery  and  gold, 

The  envied  dust  of  many  a  churl ; 
Let  those  be  bought  who  freely  will  be  sold 

For  shining  nothings  of  the  world. 
Why  give  to  others  when  the  golden  hue 

Gives  me  no  pleasure.     Sure 
If  'tis  the  want  of  happiness  to  you, 

To  them  'twill  be  no  more. 
If  nature  valued  it  as  high  as  we 

Why  placed  it  not  among  the  stars  ; 
Why  hurl  it  in  the  bowels  of  the  sea, 

Or  lock  it  by  the  Andes'  bars  f 


50 

Where  our  folly,  and  our  far  worse  aim, 

Have  sought  it  and  exposed  to  view 
To  man  a  dreadful  source  of  crime  and  shame 

Unknown  before  we  knew. 
Why  is  it  not  the  needful  bread  of  life 

To  show  its  value  unto  men  ; 
Can  its  just  followers  be  pain  and  strife, 

And  this  its  value  then  ? 
If  gold  is  riches  worth  a  moment's  thought 

Why  is  the  miser  yet  so  poor, 
Why  pass  away  when  gained  or  almost  bought  ? 

Death  robs  man  of  his  store. 
If  aimed  to  lengthen  life  or  to  secure 

Why  should  it  be  the  source  of  death ; 
Why  is  its  worth  when  death  approaches  o'er, 

W'hy  step  between  a  flatterer  and  bliss  ? 
Why  comparatively  easy  thus  to  gain 

If  scarcity  ye  count  its  joy  ? 
What  but  one  good  that  all  men  can  obtain, 

But  not  by  means  which  gold  employ. 
Mortal  forbear  to  prize  too  high, 

Think  of  it  as  the  source  of  ill, 
If  ye  prefer  it  to  futurity, 

E'en  that  is  sacrilegious  still. 
It  points  the  base  assassin's  murderous  steel, 

And  even  leads  astray  the  good, 
Attracts  the  soldier's  contumelious  zeal, 

And  inundates  whole  realms  with  blood. 
What  power  has  not  gold  gained  o'er  the  heart. 

To  lead  it  from  the  path  of  right ; 
What  ill  does  not  it  to  mankind  impart, 

And  wholly  what  is  its  delight  ? 
'Tis  poisonous  draughts  distill'd  from  orphan's  bread, 

It  gratifies,  but  to  demand 
More  eager  cravings  for  its  needless  need, 

Submits  to  sway  but  to  command. 
It  draws  the  soul  along  from  stage  to  stage, 

Making  void  what  it  can't  supply, 
Involves  the  feelings  in  its  burning  rage, 

Till  naught  can  ever  gratify. 
It  brings  the  madman  first  to  love  the  world, 

For  what  its  ruins  may  afford, 
But  soon  he  rises,  though  in  ruin  hurled, 

Above  its  limits  and  its  richest  hoard. 
Salvation  soon  can  scarcely  bound  his  reach, 

Since  its  preference  thus  deceives, 
Ambition  foiled  or  not  and  pain  must  teach 

The  richest  treasure  which  it  gives. 
Cursed  be  the  bosom  which  by  gold  is  swayed. 

No  other  love  can  harbour  "there, 


51 

Gold  ne'er  a  friend  but  many  a  foe  has  made, 
That  is  its  worth— and  this  my  pray'n— 

That  those  who  ask  to  give  it  to  the  poor, 
For  ever  wilh  it  be  they  blessed  ; 

But  those  who  crave  it  for  the  filthy  store 
May  never  with  it  be  distressed. 


SCRAPS. 

Sage  Prudence,  then,  must  sure  be  wise, 
But  fear  is  folly  in  disguise. 

If  Nature  forms  the  Idiot's  brains, 

To  tell  him  of  it,  she  never  takes  the  pains. 

Good  men  no  higher  ever  rose, 
Than  when  slandered  by  their  foes. 

Call  him  rich  who  has  a  mind 
From  ignorance  and  vice  refined  : 
'Tis  he  who  has  a  precious  store ; 
But  call  the  fool  and  vicious  poor. 

If  you  are  determined  to  be  miserable, 

Be  cheered— you'll  always  find  one  thing  to  trouble, 

The  physic  that  a  wise  man  gives, 
Can  cure  but  few,  for  few  receives. 

And  all  must  own  this  solemn  fact — 
N  aught  in  the  name  before  we  act : 
But  that  by  acting,  which  we  gain, 
Is  all — acknowledged  must  remain. 

Suffering  and  fear  admit  of  no  excuse  : 
They  soon  must  fortitude  or  death  produce. 

Blessings'  value  we  should  know- 
Not  by  their  jeopardy  or  loss— 
But  should  prefer  the  former  cross, 

Far  rather  than  the  latter  wo. 

From  those  who  have  in  things  excelled, 

Which  others  never  tried, 
Censure,  at  least,  should  be  withheld, 

Or  lightly  be  applied. 


52 

Authority,  indeed,  will  make  the  worthless  vain, 
As  often  as  it  gives  the  meritorious  pain. 

An  honest  man  in  every  thing  is  true- 
In  thoughts,  in  words— yea,  aad  in  actions  too. 


THE  INDIAN  CHIEF  IN  THE  HANDS  OF  HIS  ENEMIES. 

Blockheads !  what  are  you  doing  there  ? 

What  pain  is  it  1  cannot  bear  ? 

Usurpers  of  our  soil,  'tis  vain — 

A  soul  like  mine  can  feel  no  pain. 

I'd  even  teach  thee  how  to  make 

Fires  around  your  victim's  stake  : 

But  all  in  vain  would  be  the  worst, 

Whate'er  ye  could  inflict  or  durst. 

'Tis  vain  to  tell  me  what  am  I, 

Your  prisoner,  condemned  to  die. 

What  else  !  my  limbs  are  in  your  hands — 

My  soul  comes  under  no  commands  : 

You  may  take  my  life.     What  then  ? 

My  soul  disdains  the  power  of  men. 

Although,  ye  have  me  in  your  power, 

You've  paid  beforehand  for  this  hour  : 

Recall  the  day  at  Dripping-  Forks — 

Ye  fled  like  pigmies  from  our  'hawks. 

There  lay  your  friends,  a  grateful  sight ; 

They  made  the  feasting  of  that  night  •' 

In  vain  I  never  drew  my  bow — 

This  tawny  arm  brought  many  low. 

In  dead  of  night,  on  yonder  steep, 

When  ye  were  tired,  sunk  in  sleep, 

We  crept  along,  and  swept  the  prize — 

Such  streams  of  gore  regaled  our  eyes ! 

Your  warrior's  prayer,  your  infant's  cry, 

Were  joy  to  us ;  alike  they  die. 

Again  your  kindred  furnish  feasts 

To  hungry  Red  men  and  to  beasts  : 

And  thee  !  I  chanced  to  have  in  view — 

1  drew  my  aim,  and  pierced  thee  through. 

Where  yon  umbrages  mark  the  west, 

I  slew  thy  son,  my  slumbering  guest. 

Thy  sword  is  from  its  coward  sheath, 

Be  famed  by  such  a  warrior's  death  : 

Yes,  strike!  the  injury  erase; 

Stare  not  such  valour  in  the  face. 

Strike  !  let  me  join  my  fallen  friends — 

They  are  no  more!  they've  served  their  ends. 


53 

'Well,  fhen,  forbear— drunk  were  pur  steels 

With  White  men's  blood.     Your  timid  heeh 

Were  stained  with  red,  and  we  did  cease  ; 

Ye  begged,  and  we  agreed  on  peace. 

Again  ye  thought  yourselves  secure, 

Again  we  thirst  for  trickling  gore  ; 

When  yonder  sun  had  left  the  sky, 

Around  your  dwellings  close  we  lie : 

And  when  ye  rest,  no  more  to  toil, 

We  seize  upon  the  helpless  spoil. 

Your  streams  run  purple  with  your  blood. 

Your  bodies  block  Ohio's  flood. 

Where  is  the  wood  which  did  not  aid 

To  roast  the  food  your  brethren  made  ? 

Yes  !  I  glory  in  such  deeds.     I  boast 

That  doing  thus,  I  thinned  your  host ; 

I  glory  now  I'm  left  alone — 

My  soul  is  far  above  thy  own. 

Thy  threats  as  innocent  doth  appear 

As  air  which  wafts  them  to  my  ear : 

Distort  thy  face  !  thou  little  boy — 

ftecoil !  thy  anger  is  my  joy  ; 

Shrink  from  the  Tiger  of  the  wood, 

His  glances  freeze  thy  coward  blood. 

Unskilled  tormentors!  desist,  for  shamed 

:For  me  the  coal  withholds  its  flame : 

iSTot  thus  for  you— if  you  were  so, 

The  wind  would  not  refuse  to  blow. 

Ah  !  cease — your  efforts  have  no  force; 

Let  stubborn  nature  take  her  course : 

Cease  from  your  lunacy  of  soul, 

Your  tortures  but  myself  extol. 

Do  as  you  will,  'tis  all  in  vain — 

My  glory  I  will  tell  again  : 

Our  song  of  war  ye  heard  with  dread, 

And  many  of  the  White  men  bled ; 

Your  bones  were  heaped  on  every  field, 

For  there  we  learned  to  make  you  yield. 

The  forest  Vultures  eager  sought 

The  wooded  hills  where  we  had  fought : 

They  gladly  heard  your  parting  groans— 

We  fed  them  on  your  bleaching  bones. 

We  joined  your  Fathers ;  who,  as  you, 

Are  false, — a  selfish,  subtile  crew  : 

They  leagued  to  give  us  all  your  lands, 

But  those  we  had  are  in  your  hands. 

How  they  deceive !     We  serve  their  turn— 

We  beg  for  help  ;  but  then  they  spurn. 

Where  is  the  plain,  the  stream,  the  glade, 

That  did  not  urge  our  parting  shade  ? 


54 

We  valiant  warred.     Ye  proved  too  strong- 
No  more  the  breezes  waft  our  song 
Beside  Ohio's  bloody  stream,— 
My  heart  melts  at  the  sickening  theme ! 
Ye  laid  us  low  ;  my  Red  men  fell— 
No  more  1  hear  their  eager  yell ; 
No  others  rise  to  fill  their  stead, — 
"  I  cannot  animate  the  dead." 
Their  bones  lie  mould'ring  on  the  plain  ; 
Alas  !  they  ne:er  can  stir  again. 
Your  dread  for  them  may  now  be  o'er, 
For,  ah !  they  cannot  harm  you  more. 
My  fate  outweighs  my  weaker  will,— 
"  But  give  me  men,  I'd  fight  you  still !" 
I'm  yours;  do  with  me  as  you  please — 
I  care  not :  let  me  be  at  ease  ; 
I  ask  not  life  or  liberty, — 
Just  deal  the  blow,  and  set  me  free. 


THE  CONGRESS  OF  SEVENTY-SIX. 

Thy  instruments  of  sound,  Erato,  bring— 
The  band  of  Seventy-six, 

In  some  exalted  air  of  angels  sing  ; 

Or  grant  new  powers  to  a  minor  muse, 
To  pens  unknown  to  fame 

J  ntrust  the  theme.     To  ev'ry  ear  the  news 

Immortal  sages — heroes — numerous — one, 
Who  dared  their  names  affix 

To  Freedom's  scroll  before  the  awful  sun, 

In  reach  of  tyrants'  wrath,  and  well  designed 
To  spread  dismay  and  shame 

As  feasts  unto  their  rage,  and  ruin  to  mankind. 

Who  dared  to  grasp  at  freedom,  drenched  in  £ore— 

Or  from  the  valiant  grave 
To  draw  forth  life,  and  spend  it  as  before? 
Who  dared  re-echo  with  uplifted  hands, 

"  Give  liberty  or  death  ! 

The  bondage  of  the  tomb  before  the  tyrant's  bands:' 
Who  dared  proclaim  unto  the  sceptred  world, 

"  Thy  death  or  smiles  we  crave. 
Tremble  at  the  motto  now  unfurled?" 
Who  dared  be  virtuous,  that  their  only  crime, 

To  pawn  their  vital  breath 
On  points  of  bayonets,  to  sweeten  time  ! 


55 

With  these  alone,  Columbia,  thou  art  great- 
Great  were  these  without  thee — 

Great  were  they  without  an  oppressed  state; 

Exalted  worthies,  then  is  nature  thine  ; 
To  serve  a  state  is  man  : 

To  free  a  nation  then  must  be  divine. 

Who  in  a  moment  as  by  magic  art, 
From  mystery  yet  free, 

Gave  and  possessed  all  that  can  please  the  heart, 

Their  names  to  fame,  their  all  to  serve  mankind — 
Their  minds  they  give  to  Heaven, 

And  all  their  powers  tested  and  refined. 

Adore  the  God  who  gave  us  such  a  band, 

Himself  reflected  there — 
The  saviours,  guardians,  rulers  of  the  land  ; 
The  God  who  lengthened  out  the  brittle  thread 

Beyond  the  common  reach — 
Beyond  (for  Freedom's  sake)  Tyrannies  dead; 
The  hand  that  in  their  lives  and  deaths  is  shown, 

Old,  unoppressed  by  care, 
They  sink  enseraphed  to  the  state  unknown — 
Who  gave  us  '•  Fathers''  of  that  glorious  age, 

Almost  "the  day"  to  each, 
is  made  the  message  of  a  patriot  sage. 


AN   HOUR'S   WALK. 

I  walked  out  one  evening  alone ; 

Brown  Autumn  had  covered  the  plain — 
I  sighed  at  the  marks  of  his  reign, 

It  pointed  to  which  all  are  prone. 

The  herbs  which  so  lately  were  gay, 
Lay  strewn,  or  had  withered  around; 
The  flowers  adhered  to  the  ground, 

Their  beauties  were  faded  away : 

Reflections  straightway  brought  to  mind 
That  they  would  also  rise  again — 
So  pointed  the  last  mortal  pain, 

And  pointed  the  rise  of  mankind. 

The  abundance  which  covered  the  field, 
Taught  the  gratitude  I  owed  to  God — 
The  harvest  which  sprung  from  the  sod, 

The  harvest  the  high  branches  yield ; 

The  feathered  musicians,  the  birds, 
Each  chose  for  his  journey  a  friend, 
They  never  each  other  offend  ; 

The  beasts  form  themselves  into  herds— 


56 

This  taught  me  the  duty  I  owed 
To  neighbor,  to  brother,  to  friend, 
That  love  must  with  alliance  blend, 

And  that  each  was  dependent  it  showed; — 

Preparing  to  fly  far  away, 
Preparing  for  future  events, 
It  taught  me  what  I  must  be  hence, 

Unless  I  provided  as  they. 

Nature — the  children  of  nature. 
Taught  me  that  to  idle  was  sin, 
That  pleasure  is  sweetened  by  pain, 

That  each  was  to  every  creature. 

The  waste  of  the  hill,  and  the  fall 
Of  the  leaves  and  each  fading  flower, 
Taught  me  time  and  time's  killing  power- 
Taught  an  end  is  allotted  to  all. 

The  thistle  which  waved  its  proud  head 
And  armor  on  every  side, 
That  once  abounded  in  pride, 

It  now  taught  me  that  it  was  dead  ; 

This  learned  me  that  pride  must  be  checkM 
That  each  passion  and  lawless  desire 
Will  meet  with  its  fate  and  expire — 

That  its  joys  must  shortly  be  wreck'd. 

1  knew  not  how  men  could  deny 
What  God  had  affirmed  ia  his  book  : 
Into  view  whatever  1  took, 

Confirmed  me  that  Atheists  lie. 

This  walk  was  of  service  to  me — 

It  taught  me  how  knowledge  is  earned, 
It  taught  me  whate'er  can  be  learned— * 

Kind  Nature  will  teach,  if  we  see. 

1  heard  not  far  off  a  knell  : 
A  grave  was  receiving  its  trust, 
A  brother  was  mingling  with  dust — 

I  hastened  to  muse  in  rny  cell. 


THE    GREAT. 

Who  are  the  grest?    Two  sorts  with  mankind  dwe!I 

Those  who  act  ill,  and  those  who  manage  well. 

The  great  and  bad  must  have  a  store  of  cash, 

Or  treated  he  will  be  as  so  much  trash  ; 

He  must  have  power  himself  to  give  and  keep, 

Or  else  his  wants  will  put  his  friends  asleep  ;. 


57 

His  praise  is  floated  on  the  vacant  air, 
But  read  the  heart — there's  no  such  kindness  there. 
He  rides  on  flattery  :  his  worth  is  told, 
But  all  he  gets  must  be  the  price  of  gold. 
In  life  he's  honored— far  and  wide  is  famed, 
In  death  forgotten,  or  deriding  named  ; 
He  ne'er  was  happy,  though  that  was  his  aim — 
He  ne'er  was  known,  although  he  wedded  fame — 
He  ne'er  done  right  in  all  his  well  spent  days- 
He  ne'er  done  any  thing:  so  ends  his  praise. 
The  great  and  good  is  great  because  he's  good  ; 
He's  rich  because  he's  poor  :  and,  as  he  should, 
Is  sage  ;  he  is  a  fool  in  his  own  eyes, 
Because  all  others  know  him  to  be  wise ; 
He's  loved,  not  for  the  wealth  which  he  may  own, 
But  is  esteemed  but  for  himself  alone ; 
He's  praised  with  words  when  he  abroad  doth  roam, 
And  praised  with  hearts  when  he  is  found  at  home. 
His  actions  praise  him— far  the  greatest  fame 
That,  as  a  blessing,  to  a  man  e'er  came ; 
His  heart  commends  him,  purer  never  was, 
And  he  commends  his  heart  for  whathte  does. 
He  lives  the  good  man  as  the  good  man  dies  : 
He  honored  falls,  and  far  more  honored  lies. 
Happiness  on  all,  as  could  he,  he  bestowed, 
And  on  himself  the  purer  fountain  flowed  ; 
He  lived  the  great  man,  and  expired  then 
To  be  more  great,  more  good,  more  wise  than  men — 
Those  who  wish,  happiness,  must  live  as  he. 
Would  you  be  great  ?  then  good  alike  him  be — 
Be  wise,  by  choosing  such  a  course  as  this, 
Be  famed,  by  having  such  a  name  as  his — 
Be  this  on  earth.     If  heavenly  bliss  you  crave. 
Be  good — and  rise  an  angel  from  the  grave. 


THE  MAGNOLIA. 

Near  raging  Mississippi's  stream 

See  the  Magnolia  laurel  rise- 
Enlivened  by  the  solar  beam, 

It  proudly  mounts  towards  the  skies. 
Its  trunk  the  marble  pillar  as 

Its  conic  top  profoundly  bears, 
Arabian  fragrance  sweet  it  has, 

Its  beauty  as  the  rose-bush  wears  ; 
Its  blooms  around  wide  open  spread, 

O'er  which  reflecting  sun-beams  play, 
Adjorn  in  white  sublime  its  head, 

And  give  a  lustre  unto  day. 
F  2 


The  wandering  Indian  starts  aghast 

At  the  astounding  laurel's  height, 
And  gazes  on  the  rich  repast 

Which  JNature  gave  unto  the  sight. 
He  snuffs  the  breezes'  rich  perfume, 

Which  floats  as  if  from  Heaven  around; 
And  long  reclines  beneath  the  bloom, 

To  hear  o'erhead  the  humming  sound. 


EGISTIE    AND   MARIDA— A   TALE 

Behold  the  most  deserving  lovers  part — 

How  can  they  separate  ?  they  have  one  heart. 

Hand  in  hand,  with  heaving  bosoms,  they 

Sob  out  adieu,  and  for  each  other  pray. 

Egislie,  what  a  Raphael  or  a  West 

Would  draw  to  touch  with  love  an  angel's  breast. 

Without  the  grace  of  motion  or  those  eyes — 

The  form  had  borrowed  graces  from  the  skies ! 

She  gently  bows  to  hide  whatever  trace 

May  chance  to  be  depicted  on  her  face. 

Angelic  creature  !  what  a  contrast  here! 

Here  grief  and  beauty,  but  they  join  in  one — 
Her  very  sorrow,  sweetness  doth  appear, 

And  all  her  beauties  in  one  channel  run 
Jnto  her  eyes,  directed  now  above, 
And  tell  as  much,  it  seems,  as  heart  can  love. 
The  form  before  her,  far  as  worth  can  go, 
Deserves  her  favor  and  deserves  her  wo  : 
Tall,  graceful,  handsome,  genuine  tenderness, 
Contrasted  with  his  military  dress— 
His  mind  the  same,  but  what  his  sex  requires, 
One  warms  with  love,  and  one  with  rapture  fires. 
"  Farewell,  Egistie  !"— "  Marida  !  fare  thee  well !' 
"•  We  meet,  but  when,  no  mortal  tongue  can  tell." 


"  Kind  gentle  folks,  admit  me  to  your  shed, 
For  one  short  night  protect  a  soldier's  head  ; 
Oft  has  he  fought,  o'er  many  a  region  stroll'd. 
And  all  for  you — once  screen  him  from  the  cold.'* 
'•  Egistie,  child  !  why  tremble  ye  all  o'er? 
I'll  warrant  he'll  not  harm  you — ope  the  door. 
Yes,  welcome  J  welcome,  soldier  ;  draw  a  chair — 
Partake  of  what  we  have  ;  and  if  it  were 
A  thousand  times  superior,  for  your  sake, 
A  soldier's  sake,  thou  shouldst  as  free  partake.' 


59 

You  look  quite  fresh,  sir,  for  a  man  of  war ; 

Come,  take  thy  supper,  then  thy  story  tell — 
Tell  whence  occurred,  of  thine,  that  ugly  scar  : 

Egistie  likes  to  hear  a  soldier  well ; 
She  begs  to  know,  in  all,  where  you  hare  been. 
Have  e'er  you  heard — have  you  Marida  seen  ?" 
k'  Marida  ?  yes — the  brave  Marida  rests  ! 
No  war  awakes — no  sorrow  now  molests. 
1  saw  him  fall,  unconquered,  by  my  side — 
He  heaved  '  Egistie  !'  looked  to  heaven,  and  died  ! 
Though  now  ten  years  have  lengthened  out  their  race, 
I  yet  can  see  the  burnings  of  his  face. 
Where  danger  called,  I  saw  him  furious  fly 
Across  the  field  like  eagle  through  the  sky. 
I  saw  his  tomb — some  weeping  friend  had  said  : 
4  Beneath  this  stone  the  virtuous  is  laid.' 
I  fell  beside  him  in  the  deadly  strife, 
And  to  save  his  would  given  e'en  my  life. 
But  now  Marida  sleeps ;  full  honoured  lies — 
His  virtue  gave  a  passport  to  the  skies. 
Cease,  gentle  maiden  !     Cease,  Egistie,  dear ! 
Do  not  insult  the  happy  with  a  tear." 
fci  O,  God  !  Almighty  Lord  !  thy  summons  give : 
If  he  is  dead,  how  can  Egistie  live? 
From  this  day  forth,  be  wretchedness  my  doom, 
Till  death  shall  come  to  dissipate  the  gloom : 
I  e'er  shall  mourn  the  messenger's  delay, 
As  for  Marida's  life  I  once  did  pray ; 
I  shall  through  endless  grief  and  sorrow  sigh, 
Till  I  shall  join  him  in  the  world  on  high!" 
"  O,  fair  Egistie  !  hope  may  yet  attend — 
Perhaps  a  chance  Marida  did  befriend  : 
1  yet  have  hope,  though  love  augments  our  fears  ; 
If  all  were  known,  thou  wouldst  withhold  thy  tears, 
They  say  he  lives.    I  know  myself  he  lives ; 
And  now,  though  far,  he  for  Egistie  grieves. 
I  know  his  place :  you  shall  Marida  see, 
And  you  and  he  shall  ere  long  happy  be  : 
You  shall  to-night  behold  Marida's  smile — 
He  now  impatient  listens  at  the  stile." 


THE  SHIPWRECK. 

One  stormy  night, 
Far  o'er  the  billow  hung  the  ship  : 

Still  hope  was  bright; — 
A  prayer  was  heard  from  every  lip, 

Hopes,  fears  deceive — 
The  ardent  lover  of  their  very  form 


60 

Is  left  to  grieve- 
Still  raged  the  angry  storm. 

Their  leaky  bark 
R-ishcd  fearless  through  the  dashing  foam 

Oft  some  kind  spark 
Above  shone  sweet,  like  thoughts  of  home. 

But  fate  declared 
The  doom  of  this  ill-fated  crew  : 

.Not  one  was  spared, 
Except  two  youths,  the  friendliest  two ! 

The  ship  was  wreck'd  : 
The  angry  billows  o'er  it  swept; 

Death  was  decked 
lu  all  his  horror  ;  e'en  the  living  wept. 

They  scarce  were  saved  : 
They  hoped  nor  wished  scarce  to  escape  ; 

The  vessel  staved 
Against  a  rock  !     In  every  shape 

Was  horror  there : 
One  wave  dashed  o'er  them  all ! 

A  shriek  despair 
Was  all  the  effort  nature  made  ! 

A  rock's  protfd  head, 
Which  peeped  above  the  playful  tide. 

The  sailor's  dread, 
The  surges  gambolled  on  its  side, 

A  lonely  strand  : 
From  half  a  plank,  their  tott'ring  boat, 

The  brothers  land— 
Their  only  hope  this  dreadful  port. 

The  sea  supplied 
All  natures  crave,  but  gave  no  more  ; 

Borne  on  the  tide, 
From  some  more  hospitable  shore. 

This  source  soon  dries — 
The  faithless  wind  now  veered  about : 

Their  wandering  eyes 
]No  sail  enchants  :  no  hope,  no  doubt ! 

Their  fate  is  sure : 
The  storm  sweeps  some,  as  savage  coast — 

And  with  its  roar, 
INo  meat,  no  dew  to  them  is  tost! 

"  Home  !  once  more  home  !" 
Their  constant  and  their  latest  crv ; 

"  All  tilings  for  home!" 
But  soon  the  wretched  couple  die ! 

This  their  record 
Embalmed,  upon  the  Indian  thrown, 

All  chance  has  awed, 
And  comes  to  us  :  'tis  all  that's  known. 


61 


COLUMBIA  IN  FUTURE  AGES. 

Hail  great  America  !  Columbia  free ! 

The  golden  clime ;  the  home  of  liberty : 

But  take  thy  gaudy  jewels  from  thy  breast 

(Unto  thee  riches ;  to  another  pest.) 

But  stand  displayed,  but,  in  thy  freedom  bright. 

Thou  art  the  Alpha  in  creation's  sight. 

Although  the  other  day,  to  thee  a  birth, 

Till  then  omitted  in  a  view  of  earth, 

Thou  art  so  great— and  though  thou  art  so  great, 

Thou  yet  art  small ;  yet  in  thy  infant  state. 

Gay  fancy  on  the  wings  of  truth  displayed, 

Shows  bright  thy  image  through  futurity's  shade. 

Scarce  she  upon  the  dazzling  form  can  gaze, 

Scarce  we  allow  imagination's  praise. 

So  noble,  and  so  free  ;  a  century  more 

Will  find  thee  what  no  other  was  before. 

Thy  northern  limits  to  the  Pole  shall  reach; 

Thy  southern  bound,  the  Caribbean  beach  : 

Thy  western  States  shall  greet  Pacific's  spray  ; 

And  all  the  eastern  border  own  thy  sway. 

Where  savage  beasts  now  dare  the  Indian's  might, 

Gay  farms  and  villages  shall  charm  the  sight : 

Where  prowls  the  Tiger— where  the  raven  croaks  ; 

Where  now  the  forest  rears  her  lofty  oaks, 

Bold  cities  shall  ascend  in  awful  pride, 

And  swarming  regions  spread  on  every  side. 

Where  now  the  river  glides  through  thickets  dark, 

See  many  a  pilot  steer  his  cheerful  bark  : 

His  charge  the  treasures  of  the  Campaign  :  now 

The  province  of  the  herded  Elk  or  Cow. 

Thy  commerce, shall  to  every  city  sail; 

Thy  fleets  shall  strike  the  cringing  despot  pale  : 

Where  wretched  nations  for  their  freedom  war 

Thy  legions  voluntary  shall  repair ; 

Crusaders  to  the  Holy  Land ;  distressed  ; 

For  such  are  struggling  countries  when  oppressed. 

Ten  thousand  names,  with  those  already  thine 

Shall  with  thy  glory  and  duration  shine  : 

Thyself  enfreed ;  a  refuge  for  distress, 

What  can  ennoble  more,  or  higher  bless  ? 

The  genius  of  old  Greece  and  Rome  shall  be 

Connected  with  thy  happy  liberty, 

Refined  by  age,  and  passage  o'er  the  sea  : 

And  transportation  to  thy  purer  sky, 

Where  virtue,  wisdom,  right,  shall  never  die. 

Thy  greatness,  fancy's  picture  shall  transcend ; 

Thy  time  shall  with  all  future  ages  blend, 

And  with  eternity  shall  scarcely  end. 


62 


LIFE. 

And  what  is  life  beside  a  dream  ? 
The  influence  of  the  solar  beam ; 
The  flying  shadow  of  a  cloud  ; 
The  exchange  of  the  frock  and  shroud  : 
A  century, a  year, a  day, 
A  shade  whose  presence  sweeps  it  'way  ; 
Whose  wealth  is  half  a  moment's  breath. 
Whose  time,  a  walk  from  death,  to  death 
The  toy  of  fools,  the  pride  of  none  ; 
A  race  commenced  as  soon  as  run  : 
Nay,  every  thing  it  can  be  made ; 
It  every  thing  can  make  with  aid. 
And  any  thing  'tis  made  by  us, 
So  can  it  make,  and  so  it  docs. 
'Tis  man  ;  and  man  is  what  he  is, 
A  thing  of  pain,  a  thing  of  bliss  : 
'Tis  nothing;  and  to  us  'tis  all ; 
It  marks  our  rise,  it  marks  our  fall ; 
It  marks  our  full,  our  vacant  place, 
It  marks  our  honor  or  disgrace: 
To  heaven  or  hell,  an  avenue, 
Which  human  nature  must  pass  through. 
'Tis  icason's  and  'tis  sorrow's  dawn, 
Or  happiness  and  wisdom's  morn  ; 
A  dreadful  trial  of  the  best, 
To  all  a  necessary  test ; 
A  time  to  choose  and  to  refuse, 
A  time  to  gain,  a  time  to  lose  ; 
A  time  to  laugh,  a  time  to  cry, 
A  time  to  live,  a  time  to  die  ; 
A  time  for  all  which  man  concerns, 
But  which  he  seldom  ever  learns. 
O  life !  O  time  !  O  man  !  all  one 
To  day  began,  to  morrow  done. 
We  should  be  friendly,  helping  be, 
Since  all  are  of  one  family  ; 
Not  injure,  or  abuse  each  other, 
Or  spurn  the  friendship  of  another. 
Why  on  the  foe,  of  each  one,  call 
On  Death,  the  enemy  of  all. 
Prefer  a  stranger  to  a  brother, 
The  offspring  of  a  common  mother. 
Since  life's  a  dream,  a  glance  at  light, 
Improve  it  ere  it  change  to  night : 
A  time  of  exchange  ;  early  done, 
Then  give  it  for  a  better  one ; 
Whate'er  its  small  extent,  it  can 
Be  managed  for  the  good  of  man. 


63 

Since  it  can  be  whate'er  you'll  make, 
The  wisest  measures  with  it  take: 
Convert  it  to  a  proper  use, 
And  never  harm  it  with  abuse. 
;Tis  man,  and  man  himself  must  love; 
'Tis  little  here,  but  all  above. 
Yes  tis  all;  then  know  it  such, 
You  cannot  prize  the  hour  too  much  : 
Too  small  you  cannot  think  its  space  ; 
Too  slow  you  cannot  run  its  race. 
Reject  the  bad,  accept  the  best; 
For  this  is  each  one's  interest. 
To  live  and  die  is  all  you  have, 
Tis  all  a  mortal  ought  to  crave ; 
Learn  what  life  is  :  'tis  wisdom's  trade 
All  of  man's  weaknesses  to  aid. 


THE  PLAIN  OF  LEXINGTON. 

Great  plain  !  exalted  are  thy  plants  indeed — 

Fed  with  the  blood  of  patriots,  who  here  did  bleed  : 

Thine  is  the  mighty  fame  to  quench  thy  thirst 

With  streams  from  hearts  that  bled  for  freedom  first. 

The  stage  on  which  that  goddess  thrust  aside 

The  Tyrant's  shackles,  and  for  vengeance  cried. 

Long  triumphed  o'er,  at  last  she  struck  the  blow, 

And  hurled  her  raging  eagles  on  the  foe. 

The  sun  that  morn  that  smiled  upon  the  scene, 

In  fame  embalmed  this  consecrated  Green, 

And  warmed  with  ardour  every  patriot  son, 

To  point,  in  fight  for  liberty,  a  gun. 

Here  first  our  sires  the  despot's  rage  did  face, 

Here  burnt  the  genuine  ardour  of  our  race  : 

First  met  they  here  to  pass  the  dreadful  test, 

The  infant's  heart,  the  tyrant's  shielded  breast. 

Thy  mould  drank  deep.of  the  oppressor's  gore, 

First  by  our  injured  Fathers  made  to  pour: 

Ye  trembled  for  Iheir  sakes  at  every  peal, 

And  fearful  heard  the  clashing  of  our  steel. 

But  rest  contented  ;  though  a  few  did  fall, 

Alone  they  fell  not ;  and  they  died  for  all. 

Henceforth,  when  nations  proudly  wear  the  chain. 

They  oft  will  think  of  Lexington's  red  plain, 

All  crimsoned  with  the  blood  of  tyrants  slain  ; 

And  shall  more  confidential  dare  believe 

That  God  the  virtuous  will  sure  reprieve. 

No  doubt  when  Greece  and  France  swore  to  be  free, 

And  patriotic  Poland  thought  of  thee, 


64 

The  tyrant  thinks  upon  thy  name  with  dread, 

And  binds  less  hard  to  save  his  guilty  head. 

Thou  art  the  first  of  many  a  bloody  field 

Where  slaves  and  kings  alternatively  yield  : 

Led  forth  to  battle  to  oppose  God's  Jaws, 

And  led  to  fight  in  Liberty's  good  cause. 

The  flame  which  burned  here,  though  in  blood  oft 

drenched, 

Has  never  yet,  nor  ever  will  be  quenched, 
Until  the  luminary  there  which  rose, 
Shall  have  exterminated  Freedom's  foes ; 
Though  Bunker's  Hill,  and  many  a  hill  beside, 
Thick  set  with  steel,  the  lawless  Power  defied^ 
Yet  for  Columbia's  freedom,  first  did  run 
The  blood  of  Tyranny,  at  Lexington. 
Repose,  full  honoured,  freedom-yielding  plain, 
The  happy  harvest,  which  is  reaped  with  pain  ; 
But  one*  secured,  we  far  more  cheerful  dine, 
And  know  that  virtue  and  liberty  combine. 


WHAT  FIRST  MAN'S  STATE  REQUIRES  OF  MAN 

First,  man  requires  that  nature  should  give  life, 

Which  she  submits  to  most  complaisantly  : 

Then  she  demands  in  turn  a  task  of  him, 

Which,  to  perform,  scarce  folly  can  deny. 

When  reason  lends  her  sun  to  light  the  mind, 

We  then  are  made  responsible  to  act : 

We  see  all  things  around  us  wise  and  good, 

And  seemingly  designed  for  our  use. 

Some  other  Power  we  know  bestowed  all  these; 

We  then  should  know  that  Power,  to  give  our  thanks  ; 

Know  how  to  act  to  keep  the  blessings  given, 

And  learn  those  blessings  to  secure  yet  hid. 

Our  first  display  of  thought  upon  us  breaks, 

And  shows  us  we  are  largely  in  arrears; 

And  should  no  other  credit  be  to  us, 

Our  time  would  be  well  filled  with  retribution. 

Of  all  around  us  we  must  learn  the  use, 

And  learn  our  wants,  and  how  they  are  supplied. 

All  things  placed  in  our  care  we  must  improve. 

Especially  the  soul's  appendages ; 

Learn  to  live  well  in  this  terrestrial  night, 

To  be  prepared  to  live  through  endless  day. 

All  gratitude  to  God  is  justly  due, 

And  to  ourselves  a  wish  for  happiness. 

Nature  can  hardly  err ;  know  nature,  then  ; 

Observe  what  reasonable  nature  is ; 


65 

She  many  requisitions  makes  of  man, 

But  easy  to  be  paid — all  for  his  good. 

If  nature's  silent  on  our  duty's  side, 

Then  God  demands  they  should  be  well  performed  - 

GRTEF  UNAVAILING. 

"  Why  grievest  thou,  dejected  fair  ?" 
*'  This  sad  bereavement  who  can  bear  ?" 
"  Will  sorrow  bring  to  pain  relief? 
Is  fortitude  then  worse  than  grief?" 

BATTLE. 

The  busy  field  with  lightnings  flash, 

Their  armour  all  so  bright, 
And  dreadful  preparation's  clash 

Resounds  from  left  to  right. 
The  awful  hesitation  o'er, 

The  deadly  blade  comes  down  : 
Enrapt  in  flame,  the  cannons  roar, 

See  danger  and  renown  ! 
As  if  the  world  were  all  on  fire, 

The  bloody  combat  burns  ; 
Still  roaring,  flaming,  sparkling  higher, 

From  rank  to  rank,  by  turns. 
A  Stygian  fog  o'erspreads  the  whole, 

And  all  is  solemn  night; 
But  now  more  loud  the  thunders  roll, 

Now  higher  burns  the  fight. 
Amidst  the  earthquakes  of  the  war, 

That  bellows  forth  around, 
Here  now  a  shriek,  there  a  huzza, 

A  sad  foreboding  sound  ! 
The  dying  die,  the  living  will — - 

There,  danger  courage  gives  ; 
Their  greatest  triumph  is  to  kill, 

He  bears  the  palm  who  lives. 
The  bloody  plain  we  dare  not  scan, 

'Twill  redden  us  with  truth  : — 
All  things  are  better  unto  man 

Than  Tie  is  to  himself! 
How  bold  to  fight  for  liberty  i 

'Tis  being  born  afresh ; 
How  noble  to  fight  bravely ! 

The  coward  must  confess. 
Our  mother  Earth  should  not  be  red 

With  one  another's  blood, 
Where  innocence,  where  goodness  bled 

The  conquest  is  not  good  ! 


ADDRESS  TO  GOD. 

Almighty  God  of  heaven  and  earth,  how  cao 
A  worm  approach  Thee,  in  the  form  of  man  I 
When  holy  music  ever  greets  thy  ear, 
How  can  a  being  so  debased  appear  ! 
Before  thy  throne  dar^e  raise  unhallowed  sounds. 
When  perfect  souls  thy  aw  fulness  confounds  T 
How  can  such  hearts,  unpurified,  dare  raise 
From  sinful  lips  a  voice  in  prayer  or  praise  ! 
How  can  this  body  instigate  the  eye, 
This  clod  of  earth  to  gaze  for  once  on  high  ! 
But,  Lord,  thy  tender  mercies  have  no  bound — 
Thou  bidst  this  clay  with  gratitude  resound  : 
This  insect  thou  allowest  to  praise  or  pray, 
To  look  on  high,  beyond  the  realms  of  day. 
This  heart  glows  for  the  gracious  liberty, 
And  dares  to  move  the  tongue  in  praise  to  Thee : — 
Almighty  Father !  thou  didst  form  this  earth, 
And  kindly  gave  to  me  on  it  a  birth, 
With  all  the  blessings  which  around  me  are, 
And  all  the  future  bliss  which  I  may  share. 
Although  in  dust,  in  sin  I  still  remain, 
Thou  bidst  me  hope  I  was  not  made  in  vain. 
Shade  of  that  gratitude,  bliss  of  the  blest, 
Accept,  oh  Lord  !  from  this  half- thankful  breast ; — 
To  Thee  all  glory  for  thy  kindness  sent, 
To  Thee  all  glory  for  these  bounties  lent ; 
All  praise  be  thine,  'tis  due  from  only  me, 
If  only  I  was  ever  blest  by  Thee. 
What  this  weak,  faulty  tongue  cannot  impart, 
Lord,  read  it  in  an  overflowing  heart ; 
Through  all  my  days  may  I  one  gift  repay* 
May  I  full  know  the  blessings  of  one  day  ; 
May  all  thy  gifts  to  me  be  fully  known, 
To  fit  my  heart  to  thank  thee,  Lord,  for  one. 
All  glorious  God  !  Jehovah  !  Lord  divine  1 
Eternal  gratitude  and  glory  thine  ! 
With  heavenly  anthems  let  a  mortal's  rise, 
To  praise  the  Sovereign  of  the  earth  and  skies. 
All  tongues,  all  hearts  in  grateful  song  combine, 
In  adoration  to  the  Power  Divine, — 
]tf  or  cease  when  heaven  and  earth  shall  pass  away. 
But  sing  enraptured  through  eternal  day. 
For  all  the  joy  with  which  my  heart  is  swelled, 
For  all  the  evil  which  thou  hast  withheld, 
For  all  thy  blessings,  Lord,  for  those  I  know, 
For  those  as  kind,  unknown  thou  didst  bestow, — 
For  all  the  blessings  which  to  man  are  given, 
For  all  the  bliss  which  angels  taste  in  heaven, — 


67 

With  ray  ascension,  rise  my  praises  higher, 

A  mortal's  tongue,  a  Seraph's  holy  lyre; 

Alone,  if  none  will  aid  my  joyous  song, 

Above  in  concert  with  the  angelic  throng, — 

For  thou  art  God,  the  Maker,  Saviour  too, 

For  thou  art  good,  for  all  is  all  thy  due  : 

Thy  presence  is  in  every  thing  displayed, 

The  searching  eye  must  see  and  shrink  dismayed ; 

In  those  bright  worlds,  which  far  beneath  Thee  roll, 

£ n  every  insect's  place,  from  pole  to  pole  ! 

Where'er  thy  presence,  there  thy  goodness  strays, 

And  with  a  bliss  thy  influence  repays. 

Omniscient,  Omnipresent,  holy  Lord, 

If  man  must  be  ungrateful,  how  unawed ! 

To  see  thy  glory  thus,  and  not  extol 

Thy  name  with  all  his  heart,  and  all  his  sonl ; 

To  see  this  kind  arrangement,  for  him  all, 

And  not  before  thy  august  temple  fall. 

All  things  are  his,  which  ask  but  his  request 

To  make  him  comfortable,  more  than  blest : 

The  earth,  the  air,  the  skies  are  for  his  use, 

A  sacred  soul  salvation  if  he  choose ; 

All  good  for  him — he's  made  for  lasting  joy, 

For  him  no  ill — for  evil  will  destroy  ! 

Oh !  let  him  know  his  end,  Almighty  Power  I 

And  be  prepared  to  meet  the  mortal  hour? 

Dispel  his  fears,  forgive  his  wickedness  1 

Oive  hope,  give  faith,  and  with  true  knowledge  bless  ! 

All  for  thy  glory  ;  what  he  needs  dispense, 

To  teach  him  how  to  live  for  ever  hence! 


FRAGMENT. 

The  busy  world  drives  on  the  man, 
And  leaves  half-finished  all  his  plan. 
Within  the  world  is  folly  bare — 
Wisdom,  goodness,  is  not  there  : 
She  must  flourish  in  retreat, 
She  will  not  linger  in  the  street. 
Wisdom  still  will  wear  disguise, 
She  ne'er  shines  plainly  to  the  eyes ; 
She  folly  seems  to  ignorance, 
And  scarce  lies  in  her  own  expanse ; 
Where'er  she  is,  we  always  find 
The  maiden  lovely,  good  and  kind, 
Always  seeming  to  be  blind, 
J3ut  with  optics  most  refined, 


68 
THE  WASHINGTONIAN^ 

AN  EPIC  POEM. 

Ye  brave  who  live  for  freedom's  sake 

Learn  what  your  Chief  has  done  ; 
The  bold,  the  good,  the  nobly  great, 

Immortal  Washington  I 
Ye  wise,  it  interests  you  too, 

For  his  was  wisdom's  part, 
Ye  virtuous  also  mark  his  course, 

For  he  was  good  at  heart. 
From  monarch  proud  to  meanest  boor, 

Whose  toil  that  monarch  feeds, 
Xonc  may  unpro6tably  scan 

The  record  of  his  deeds. 
One  course  of  greatness  was  his  own. 

One  glorious  path  he  ran, 
From  smiliug  youth  to  hoary  age,. 

From  infancy  to  man. 
That  spirit  which  his  God  sent  forth. 

To  make  him  best  of  men, 
For  ever,  peerless,  he  retained 

Till  summoned  back  again. 
Then  sing,  my  Muser  a  chosen  song,. 

Connected  with  his  name, 
His  acts  unequalled,  nobly  done, 

And  his  immortal  fame. 
Where  liberty  dare  sound  her  name 

Let  his  example  shine 
To  cheer,  to  guide  the  struggling  band 

In  slavery  who  pine. 
Then  snap  the  galling  bands  in  twain, 

Lay  the  oppressor  low, 
And  gain  the  bliss  which  freedom  yields 

To  Tyrants'  meanest  foe. 
Then  sound  the  cheerful  notes  of  war, 

'Tis  nature's  calls  invite  ; 
Undaunted,  seize  the  patriot  sword> 

And  rush  into  the  fight. 
Die,  though  unconquered,  on  the  field 

Where  freedom  may  be  won, 
Rather  than  live  to  shameful  age 

By  tyranny  outdone. 
Where  now  proud  cities  rear  their  walls, 

And  millions  teem  upon  the  soil 
W  here  merry  commerce  hoards  her  gold, 

And  thousands  for  wealth  or  pleasure  toilx- 


69 

Once  frowned  the  dreary  wilderness, 

Once  roved  the  forest  child  ; 
As  savage  as  the  beasts  which  ranged 

Throughout  that  horrid  wild. 
Here  in  his  native  fierceness  dwelt 

The  Indian  thirsting  blood, 
And  e'en  that  serpent-teeming  waste 

No  mean  heart  might  withhold. 
But  all  the  horrors  which  here  reigned, 

Which  nobly  he  might  shun, 
Which  well  might  daunt  the  boldest  heart, 

CouIJ  not  young  Washington. 
His^country  calls,  he  must  obey 

No  thought  of  else  beside ; 
He  boldly  dares  the  perilous  way 

Alone,  all.but  a  guide. 
Now  see  amid  these  savage  wilds 

Opprest  with  hunger,  cold, 
The  stripling  youth,  a  nation's  arm, 

The  hero  young  and  bold. 
Through  ways  unknown  he  marked  his  path, 

Sufficient  to  appall 
The  stoutest  hearts— Ah,  his  beside, 

And  sought  the  savage  Gaul. 
And  for  his  country's  safety  sues, 

Ah  could  he  sue  in  vain  ? 
His  mission  o'er,  his  duty  done, 

He  starts  for  home  again. 
Along  his  path  a  savage  lurks, 

And  marks  him  for  his  prey ; 
His  deadly  tube  ne'er  known  to  fail 

Refuses  to  obey. 
Though  scarce  an  hundred  hand-breadths  off 

Unhurt,  he  'scaped  the  ball ; 
The  wondering  savage  stood  aghast 

To  see  he  did  not  fall ! 
Who  that  breathes  and  knows  a  God 

But  marks  here  his  goodness  well ; 
The  hero  undismayed  did  stand 

Where  thousands  would  have  fell. 
And  mark  his  nobleness  of  soul 

In  one  so  young  and  warm, 
Although  the  savage  he  did  take, 

He  done  to  him  no  harm. 
Ye  olden  bards  tell  of  the  great 

Their  bravery— what  you  will, 


70 

Boast  ye  of  kingdoms  won,  destroyed, 

Your  heroes'  might  and  skill. 
But  from  the  Macedon  to  the  Swede 

Select  their  deeds  with  care, 
And  think  of  Washington  in  this— 

IN  one  can  with  him  compare. 
The  hero  on  his  glittering  throne, 

Whom  millions  may  behold, 
May  do  some  noble  act  indeed, 

Bat  'tis  but  to  be  told. 
But  in  the  obscure  ways  of  life, 

Which  fame  and  shame  do  shun, 
'Tist  naught  but  goodness  that  can  prompt 

To  actions  nobly  done. 
'Tis  noble  in  a  youth,  fourteen, 

To  lay  its  fire  aside, 
And  act  as  if  his  duty  were 

His  interest  and  his  pride. 

Where  is  that  youth  ?  you  scarce  could  prore, 

One  noble  thus  to  be  ; 
But  read  my  story  and  you'll  find 

George  Washington  was  he. 
Within  his  breast  war's  glory  burns, 

A  sailor  he  would  be ; 
But  ah,  his  mother  is  averse 

To  fighting  and  the  sea. 
He  sees  before  him  wealth  and  fame, 

And  every  tempting  thing, 
But  he  would  not  his  parent  cross 

To  be  the  greatest  king. 
The  dazzling  prospect  cannot  blind  ; 

He  turns  his  eyes  away, 
And  sacrifices  youth's  warm  hope 

His  mother  to  obey. 
The  shock  was  great,  but  all  can  breast 

What  is  to  be  withstood, 
His  fame  America  had  lost 

If  he  had  been  less  good. 
Where  Monongala  rushes  on 

impetuous  o'er  his  bed, 
See  the  devoted  army  move 

By  haughty  Braddock  led. 
There  are  men  both  stout  at  heart, 

And  to  their  sovereign  true, 
The  Briton  valiant  and  bold, 

And  the  Virginia  Blue  ! 


71 

Slowly  and  silently  march  on 

Thousands  who  there  must  fall, 
Their  thoughts  perhaps  on  home  and  friends, 

And  joys  which  may  befall. 
But  hist !  an  hundred  sounds  are  heard, 

The  rifles  keen  report : 
A  yell  as  if  ten  thousand  wolves 

Had  raised  their  horrid  note. 
Beneath  that  peal  see  hundreds  sink 

Of  the  bold  English  train, 
And  many  a  brave  Virginian 

No  more  to  rise  again  ! 
See  the  undaunted  Washington 

From  rank  to  rank  swift  fly, 
And  hurl  upon  the  stubborn  foe 

His  brave  small  company. 
Though  balls  fly  round  on  every  side, 

And  whiz  all  through  his  hair, 
Not  one  is  suffered  him  to  harm 

For  God  is  with  him  there. 
Far  scattered  o'er  that  fatal  plain 

Lie  many  a  Briton's  bones ; 
But  unrevenged  they  fell  not— for 

They  did  not  fall  alone, 
There  bleaches  too  the  savage  skull, 

Pierced  by  the  Buckskin  ball, 
And  the  brave  Hibernian 

Was  there  destined  to  fall. 
Fast  sinking  in  the  sleep  of  death 

He  spoke  to  Washington : 
"  O  tell  me,  sir,  dear  Colonel,  tell 

What's  best  now  to  be  done  ? 
"  Forgive  me,  O  thou  bravest  youth, 

Thrxt  1  thy  council  spurned  ; 
O  had  I  followed  thy  advice 

This  fate  I  might  have  shunned !" 
With  all  forgiveness  in  his  looks, 

And  accents  sweetly  mild, 
Great  George  replied, "  The  troops  won't  fight, 

And  half  my  men  are  killed  !" 
"  Poor  fellows  !     Brave  poor  fellows  all, 

And  those  that  now  remain, 
Could  I  but  live  them  to  reward 
Not  once  would  I  complain  !" 
Swift  flew  the  news  throughout  the  land, 
And  o'er  the  ocean  wide, 


72 

How  Washington  so  well  had  fought, 

And  turned  the  battle  tide. 
His  countrymen  were  proud  indeed, 

So  brave  a  youth  to  claim, 
And  nothing  could  their  pride  exceed 

To^sound  his  growing  fame. 
Fought  well  that  day  Virginia's  sons, 

Their  British  friends  to  save; 
No  hearts  are  truer  in  the  fight, 

None  firmer  or  more  brave. 
Give  them  but  powder,  ball,  and  foe, 

And  none  can  better  do, 
Strong  arms,  firm  nerves,  and  willing  minds, 

And  aim  for  ever  true. 
The  time  now  comes  when  England's  king 

Frowns  on  this  happy  shore, 
And  joy  and  peace  must  sleep  awhile 

Or  freedom  be  no  more. 

No  longer  now  the  hardy  sons 

Of  this  un wieldly  soil 
Join  with  their  English  friends  in  war, 

Or  freely  for  them  toil. 
They're  fought,  they've  bled  for  a  retreat 

From  slavery's  fell  woes  ; 
They'll  figktfor  Britons  when  they're  friends, 

Andjight  them  when  they're  foes. 
Not  now,  as  once,  Old  England  sounds 

To  them  so  Motherly, 
They  will  not,ioi//  not,  be  enslaved 

Though  foes  their  Fathers  be. 
Small  Boston,  that  unkingly  town 

Is  grown  quite  turbulent ; 
They'll  drink  their  switchel,  and  not  tea, 

Though  vessel  loads  are  sent. 

Or  do  their  business  by  wholesale 

Wate'er  Old  Albion  say, 
And  cast  the  Bohea  overboard, 

And  make  tea  of  their  bay. 
Then  if  Old  England  wants  (o  drink, 

She's  welcome  here  to  come  ; 
We're  always  hospitable  lads, 

Especially  at  home. 
Our  tea's  the  best  in  all  the  world 

To  cool  a  tyrant's  ire, 
When  sweetened  with  a  little  lead 

And  warmed  a  bit  with  fire. 


73 

Virginia  owned  a  Henry  then, 

Whom  tyrants  well  might  dread, 
Who  INDEPENDENCE  dared  to  name, 

And  the  bold  doctrine  spread. 
Sam.  Chase  of  happy  Maryland 

Made  Congress  halls  to  ring, 
When  with  a  mighty  oath  he  swore 

Resistance*  to  the  king. 
Ah,  Chase,  a  bolder  heart  than  thine 

Ne'er  warmed  a  human  breast, 
A  firmer  nor  a  greater  mind 

Ne'er  scorned  a  king's  behest. 
There  was  our  Congress  to  advise 

Whatever  should  be  done, 
And  there  was  one  who  dared  obey, 

This  was  our  Washington. 
Then  is  it  strange  that  we  are  free  ? 

What  could  this  band  not  do ; 
To  shake  an  empire  to  its  base, 

And  build  up  empires  too  ? 
Much  has  been  told  of  Lexington, 

And  until  time  is  past, 
Its  fame,  and  those  who  there  did  fight, 

In  memory  shall  last. 
Its  name  shall  wake  a  generous  pride 

That  each  is  one  of  those 
Who  boast  of  the  same  country 

Which  teems  with  despot's  foes. 
On  that  all-hallowed  plain  first  met 

Our  fathers  Briton's  host, 
And  tried  the  unpractised  rifle  well 

With  veterans,  England's  boast. 
That  spirit  which  fired  Greece  and  Rome, 

And  them  to  battle  led, 
At  Lexington  its  life  renewed, 

And  reared  its  glorious  head. 
Henceforth  it  shall  supremely  rule 

Till  time  shall  be  no  more, 
And  fix  its  mighty  influence 

On  every  happy  shore. 
Mankind  shall  glory  to  be  free, 

And  to  but  one  King  bend, 
And  gold  shall  lose  its  damning  power, 

And  war  and  strife  shall  end. 

*  "  By  the  God  of  Heavei),  I  owe  no  allegiance  to  the  King  of 
Englaud."—  ISamvfl  Chase,  in  Ongre**,  1776. 


74 

.No  more  the  earth  shall  poisons  yield, 

Psor  air  waft  them  around, 
And  meat  and  drink  untoiled  shall  rise 

Spontaneous  from  the  ground. 
Angels  once  more  shall  mix  with  men, 

And  men  their  temper  share, 
And  happiness  allied  to  heaven, 

Shall  every  where  appear. 
How  blest  supremely  will  be  those 

Who  live  in  that  great  day : 
No  toil,  no  strife,  no  pain,  no  wo, — 

All  peace  and  harmony ! 
They  died,  though  unrevenged  died  not, 

Round  Pitcairn's  flying  way, 
The  keen  ]New-Englander  did  lurk, 

And  mark  his  trembling  prey. 
For  every  tree,  and  rock,  and  hedge, 

Concealed  a  deadly  foe, 
And  the  brave  Yankees  there  did  lay 

Full  many  a  Briton  low. 
E'en  crippled  age  its  state  forgot, 

The  word  was  "  free  to  live  ;" 
And  fiery  youth  was  also  found 

To  gall  the  Fugitive. 
See  rise  the  goddess  Liberty, 

Like  Phoenix  from  the  fire, 
And  'venge  her  long  recorded  ills, 

And  satiate  her  ire. 
Old  Britain  frowns  to  see  the  deed, 

To  see  her  sons  cut  off; 
And  now  she  owns  an  enemy 

In  those  she  used  to  scoff. 
Lord  North,  that  curse  of  England's  shore. 

And  scourge  of  Freedom's  land, 
See  him  prepared  his  wrath  to  hurl 

From  his  fell,  bloody  hand. 
The  Furies  rave  around  his  brow— 

His  motto  "  Slavery" 
Unto  the  weak,  but  nation  bold, 

Who  dare  think  to  be  free. 
His  thousand  sails  encloud  the  main, 

His  myriads  throng  our  shore; 
His  menial  vassals  are  enraged, 

And  round  us  wrathful  pour. 
But  see  yon  little  band  unmoved 

At  the  o'erwhelming  power; 


75 

And  firmly  stand  the  shock  to  breast, 

Within  that  trying  hour. 
Their  eyes  are  turned  on  Washington, 

Their  hopes  alone  on  Heaven : 
Their  strength,  their  courage,  and  their  aim 

To  save  what  God  had  given. 
And,  thus  prepared,  they  fearless  wait 

Grim  death  or  slavery  : 
Not  slavery— for  they  will  die 

Ere  they  enslaved  will  be. 
Where  Bunker  rises  from  the  plain, 

Majestic  Boston  o'er, 
Hear  clash  of  steel,  and  groans  of  death, 

And  the  hoarse  cannon  roar. 
Scarce  shines  the  sun  upon  the  land. 

Ere  rages  mortal  fight : 
Here  bleeds  the  Briton  for  his  king, 

The  Yankee  for  his  right. 
Old  Putnam  rallies  round  him  there, 

His  brave,  fierce  Mountain  Boys, 
And  Warren  chooses  there  to  die 

For  liberty's  sweet  joys. 
Thrice  fought,  thrice  vanquished  and  undone, 

The  English  stood  the  fight; 
And  the  bold  Yankee  aimed  his  gun 

Beneath  his  deadly  sight : 
Dealt  death  upon  the  shattered  host 

Of  England's  boasted  pride; 
And  weeps  the  son  of  liberty 

For  many  there  who  died. 
Old  Putnam  and  his  handful  brave 

At  last  is  forced  to  fly ; 
But  every  step  that  they  give  way, 

Advancing  Britons  die. 
Like  ancient  Spartans,  when  o'erdone, 

They  backwards  did  retreat, 
And  dealt  out  many  a  mortal  wound 

To  those  that  dogged  their  feet. 
Rejoice,  rejoice,  ye  chosen  band, 

Who  scorn  a  tyrant's  will, 
And  sound  the  praise  of  those  who  fell 

On  Bunker's  famous  hill. 
Thou  guardian  Eagle  of  our  soil, 

Delighted,  clap  thy  wings, 
And  soar  to  freedom — uncontrolled 

By  emperors,  lords,  or  kings. 


76 

Turn  we  to  South  Carolina's  shore, 

To  view  the  gallant  band — 
A  nation's  hope,  a  nation's  pride— 

The  saviours  of  our  land. 
One  little  speck  of  earth  appears, 

Washed  by  the  ocean  wave, 
Small  Sullivan — and  on  that  isle 

The  band  of  Moultrie  brave. 
Far  in  the  distance,  o'er  the  deep, 

A  hostile  fleet  is  bent ; 
Oh  !  can  that  little  fort  withstand 

That  mighty  armament ! 
Will  not  the  Almighty  God  of  Heaven 

And  all  the  Universe, 
Send  forth  a  s(orm  for  our  sake, 

And  this  great  fleet  disperse  ! 
Will  not  He  lash  the  deep  to  wrath, 

And  raise  the  billows  up, 
But  to  delay  our  slavery 

And  ruin's  bitter  cup  ! 

.No — that  wise  God  who  rules  above, 

Far  other  means  doth  use 
For  to  accomplish  his  great  ends 

Than  what  poor  mortals  choose. 
?Jo  wind  doth  rise,  no  billows  rage 

To  wreck  the  English  foe- 
No  mortal  means  but  seem  to  aid 

Our  final  overthrow. 
Slowly  but  awfully  advance 

The  dread  display  of  fight ; 
And  awful  notes  of  readiness 

Sound  through  the  mighty  fleet. 
Tin's  was  a  trying  time  to  hearts 

Unused  to  mortal  fray  ; 
But  firm  the  Moultrie  and  his  braves 

Behind  their  engines  lay. 
And  poured  their  thunders  on  the  fort 

The  English  warring  men, 
And  fearless  the  Americans 

Returned  it  back  again. 
In  fort,  on  ship- board,  all  around, 

One  dreadful  peal  and  clash ; 
And  blood  and  horrid  carnage  comes 

With  each  repeated  flash. 
Proud  waves  the  Eagle  overhead, 

The  Stars  in  grandeur  shine — 


77 

When  lo !  they  drop — a  cannon  ball 

Has  cut  the  staff  in  twain. 
Brave  Jasper  leaps  undaunted  down, 

Defiance  in  his  face, 
And  snatches  up  the  standard  safe, 

And  puts  it  in  its  place. 
"  Huzza  !  my  sons  of  thunder,  all  /" 

Was  the  brave  young  man's  cry, 
Though  thousand  balls  around  him  flew— 

"  'Tis  liberty  or  die!" 
And  still  in  all  its  horrid  forms, 

Death  riots  in  the  scene ; 
Each  party  seems  resolved  to  die 

Ere  victory  they  resign. 
How  horrid  is  the  battle  field 

When  stained  for  kingly  jars  ! 
But,  oh,  how  sweet— how  glorious 

The  sight  in  freedom's  cause  ! 
From  thence,  the  weakest  may  not  turn 

Abhorrent  at  the  sight — 
But  view  with  calmness  death  and  blood, 

And  own  the  thing  is  right. 
Let  Britain's  faded  laurels  tell 

The  issue  of  this  fray — 
And  fame  sound  forth  Columbia's  praise 

For  a  great  victory. 
Sir  Peter  Parker,  great  ia  name, 

And  powerful  in  war, 
Was  forced,  with  all  his  strength,  to  yield., 

And  from  the  fight  withdraw. 
Full  hundreds  of  his  gallant  tars, 

So  blithe  and  gay  that  morn, 
Now  cold,  dismembered — horrid  sight ! 

In  death  around  him  strewn. 
The  azure  ocean,  far  and  wide, 

Now  stained  with  purple  gore— 
And  forms  of  fathers,  husbands,  sons. 

Which  these  shall  be  no  more. 
One  silent  tear  and  brimming  glass 

To  Moultrie  and  his  band,— 
Success  to  freedom  o'er  the  earth, 

And  this  enfranchised  land. 
Where  heroes  bleed,  may  they  be  free, 

And  Virtue  ever  thrive, 
And  Freedom  spread  its  magic  reign 

Till  not  one  king's  alive. 


78 

Turn  we  from  desperate  deeds  of  strife, 

Where  men  courageous  bleed, 
To  scenes  where  men  courageous  think,— 

That,  this  can  scarce  exceed. 
Behold  yon  venerable  band, 

Convened  in  Congress  Hall, 
Swear  by  their  lives  and  spotless  worth 

That  free  we  shall  be  all. 
See  yon  noble  bearing  Sage, 

A  soiled  sheet  unroll  : 
That— that  is  Thomas  Jefferson, 

And  this  is  Freedom's  scroll. 
See  Adams,  Sherman,  Livingston, 

And  Franklin,  too,  is  there, — 
And  others,  no  less  known  to  fame, 

The  Tyrant's  wrath  who  dare. 
The  deed  is  done.    Sent  forth  from  Heaven, 

Angels  our  part  defend  : 
Great  is  the  act,  and  good  the  aim, 

And  God  is  our  friend. 
Wherever  Freedom  has  a  charm, 

With  joy  the  breast  to  thrill, 
It  shall  be  told,  and  joyous  heard, 

The  heart  with  rapture  fill. 
"  These  States  no  king  can  justly  call 

His  lawful  property :" 
Thus  said  the  Sage,  and  echoed  all— 

"  WE  ARE  AND  WILT,  BE  FREE  ! 

"  This  we  proclaim  before  the  world — 

And  this  we  WILL  support : 
We  pledge  our  fortunes,  honours,  lives — 

And  all  to  this  devote." 
The  deed  is  done !    Old  earth  is  blest — 

Another  era  this : 
Mankind  may  suffer  being  slaves, 

But  freedom  is  a  bliss. 
Is  there  a  trump  which  Fame  ne'er  blew, 

Men's  deeds  to  tell  around  ? 
There  is— and  for  this  glorious  band 

The  longest  notes  shall  sound. 
Old  hoary  time  shall  tardier  fly 

And  linger  to  the  last, 
And  their  bright  stars  unclouded  shine 

When  others  all  are  past. 
See  to  the  North,  Long  Island's  beach, 

And  New  York's  famous  shore, 


79 

Once  more  is  clad  in  hostile  garb, 

With  Armies  scattered  o'er. 
There  swarm  the  English  swayed  by  Howe, 

Bright  steel,  and  gorgeous  red  ; 
Here,  firm,  the  patriotic  few, 

Great  Washington  at  head. 
Loud  roars  the  dreadful  cannon  round, 

'Midst  the  unequal  fight — 
And  steel  meets  steel — 'tis  life  for  life — 

And  power  'gainst  free-born  right. 
The  God  of  justice  slept  for  once, 

For  once  George  fought  in  vain  : 
His  bleeding  comrades  round  him  lay, 

For  many  there  were  slain. 
Sad  was  the  sight  to  Washington, 

That  tender-hearted  Chief; 
But  his  bold  heart  knew  courage  more 

Than  weak,  unmanly  grief. 
Though  he  could  not  his  loss  repair, 

His  ruin  had  been  complete, 
Had  not  he  rallied  his  brave  band, 

And  hastened  a  retreat. 
There  goes  a  nation's  only  hope — 

A  weak  but  noble  force — 
Stronger  than  millions  less  sincere, 

And  strengthened  with  a  loss. 
They  fight  like  lions  when  well-matched, 

Like  furies  when  o'erdone: 
Such  men  superior  to  a  host 

When  led  by  Washington. 

There  sat  big  Howe,  impatiently, 

Awaiting  lor  the  dawn — 
Like  hungry  eagle  of  the  hilJs 

O'er  some  unguarded  fawn. 
But  lo  !  when  morning  sun  arose, 

No  Washington  was  there — 
Safe  landed  on  the  distant  shore, 

From  bloody  ruin  far. 
'Tis  great  to  combat  equal  strength, 

To  win  a  fight  complete — 
'Tis  greater  still  to  'scape  a  foe 

By  masterly  retreat. 
Cold  Winter  comes — despair  and  wo 

Sway  this  once  happy  realm  : 
Hope  scarcely  gleams  upon  our  cause, 

Kuin  hastes  to  overwhelm, 


80 

The  haughty  English,  quite  at  ease. 

Enjoy  their  revelry — 
Unsoldier-like,  in  pleasure's  arms, 

And  spoils  of  liberty. 
This  happy  region  all  their  own, 

Their  lime  in  joy  shall  flee — 
Its  wealth  and  fame,  and  beauty,  air, 

Shall  to  their  valour  be. 
Where  now  the  rebel  chief  who  dared 

Old  England's  might  protest  ? — 
None  thought  of  him,  or  but  in  scorn, 

Or  rude  ludicrous  jest. 
But  ah  !  'midst  all  their  fancied  peace, 

When  blest  they  most  their  lot, 
That  rebel  Chief,  their  jest  and  scorn, 

Despaired  not,  rested  not. 
His  watchful  eye,  for  ever  bent 

Upon  his  country's  foes — 
When  most  exhausted,  seems  his  strength, 

He  boldest  doth  oppose. 
Proud  Trenton's  name  shall  never  die, 

With  Freedom  it  shall  live — 
The  self-same  breath  thai  utiers  one, 

Shall  fame  the  other  give. 
While  Christmas  held  her  merry  reign 

In  Britain's  tented  field, 
George,  with  his  little  gallant  force, 

Prepared  their  swords  to  wield. 
Through  threatening  death  on  every  hand, 

Of  flood,  or  storm,  or  foe, 
Guarded  by  Power,  unseen  by  man, 

Columbia's  heroes  go. 
Behold  them  rally  round  their  Chief, 

Beloved  as  father,  friend, 
And  catch  his  burning  words,  and  vow 

Still  freedom  to  defend. 
Their  Country— they  did  scarce  have  one — 

Lost !— JN aught  but  their  lives  at  stake  ; 
Hope  scarce  they  had,  but  if  he  said, 

They'd  fight  e'en  for  his  sake. 
Crimsoned  his  cheek  will)  battle's  glow, 

His  restless  eye  darts  fire — 
There  are  our  foes,  my  Countrymen  : 

We  conquer  or  expire. 
'  One  effort  more,  for  freedom's  sake — 

Heaven,  lend  thy  guardian  might! 


81 

Men1,  recollect  the  prize  at  stake- 
On  !  onward  to  the  fight !" 

Bound  forth  a  thousand  gallant  hearts 
On  the  unthinking  foe  : 

And  well-tried  steel  and  muskets'  peal 
Laid  many  Britons  low. 

But  victory  was  not  obtained 
Without  resistance  true  : 

The  Hesse  and  Briton  warred  in  vain- 
Some  fought,  some  fell,  some  flew. 

Once  more  rejoice,  America — 
Undone  thou  art  not  yet : 

Thy  Washington  has  won  the  day, 
Once  more  thy  foes  he's  met. 

Britain,  mourn,  for  thy  thousand  sons 
Who  fell  on  Trenton's  plain, 

Unwept  not — for  the  same  who  slew 
Beheld  the  sight  with  pain. 

No  brutal  passions  led  them  on 

Ambitious  to  the  fight — 
Half-mourned  the  blood  which  set  them  free, 

And  fought  but  for  their  right. 
Again  our  happy  country  smiles, 

Again  she  lifts  her  head 
Amongst  the  proudest  of  the  earth 

Who  have  for  freedom  bled. 
That  Fate  which  governs  men  and  worlds 

Again  smiles  on  our  cause ; 
And  bloody  Justice  reigns  again 

O'er  fell  tyrannic  laws. 
Where  winds  the  Sandpink,  famous  stream, 

In  Delaware  to  pour, 
Again  the  angry  Briton  wars, 

Again  hear  battle's  roar. 
One  hour,  and  all  again  is  lost, 

But  kindly  night  sets  in— 
Spreads  far  her  sable  mantle  round, 

And  hushes  battle's  din. 
Cornwallis  waits  for  rosy  morn 

With  prudence  and  good  care ; 
But  lo  !  when  morning  light  appeared, 

No  Washington  was  there  ! 
And  even  while  they  think  upon 

Lost  laurels— theirs  no  more — 
Aghast  on  Princeton's  distant  plain, 

They  hear  our  cannons  roar. 


On  Princeton's  fight  we  think  with  joy, 

And  with  a  starting  tear: 
For,  though  a  victory  \ve  gained, 

We  lost  our  Mercer  here. 
Brave,  gallant  hero,  rest  in  peace, 

In  vain  was  not  thy  strife  : 
For  tyrants  envy  e'en  thy  death, 

Much  more  thy  glorious  life. 
Behold,  amid  the  darkened  scene, 

A  glorious  light  appear  ! 
Here  comes  the  gallant  Fayctte  bold, 

Our  drooping  hearts  to  cheer : 
That  name  then  raised  our  joy  high, 

Now  clothes  in  black  our  shore — 
Revered  by  foes,  by  friends  adored, 

The  hero's  now  no  more  ! 
Sunk  in  the  dust,  but  ah  !  his  name 

Shall  never,  never  die : 
He  joins  our  Washington  in  peace, 

In  love  and  bliss  on  high  ! 
And  well  may  we  deserve  the  prize 

To  us,  which  by  them  came; 
Virtue  and  honour  be  our  guide, 

Our  country's  good  our  aim  ! 
War's  clangor  echoes  far  and  near, 

Red  Bank  and  Germantown, 
And  Bennington,  and  Brandywiue, 

Give  to  our  arms  renown. 
Brave  Green,  enraged,  comes  swooping  on. 

To  strike  the  Briton  low  ; 
Gates,  Smith,  and  Arnold,  not  less  bold, 

Are  hurled  upon  the  foe. 
Old  Morgan,  pride  of  honest  hearts, 

As  well  as  country's  friends, 
Like  some  terrific,  baneful  star, 

Above  the  Briton  bends. 
Charles  Lee  delighted  once  to  hear 

The  music  of  our  shot; 
And  Wayne,  Ticonderogian  chief, 

Is  not  to  be  forgot. 
Where  Saratoga's  plain  extends, 

Coequal  with  the  sight, 
See  Morgan,  Gates,  and  Arnold  come, 

To  give  Burgoyne  fight. 
Bloody  the  battle  raged,  and  long 

Old  Britain's  hearts  were  true— 


83 

Well  fought  her  heroes  on  that  day, 

But  all  their  strife  won't  do. 
Many  a  Briton  gasping  lies 

Upon  his  gory  bed ; 
And  many  a  brave  Columbian  there 

In  honour  rests  his  head. 
Here  Fraser  fell — and  better  far 

If  Arnold  here  had  died — 
His  once-beloved  country's  shame, 

And  once  his  country's  pride. 
Then  had  not  Andre,  virtuous  youth, 

Have  met  a  shameful  end— 
A  spiteful  enemy  to  us, 

But  human  nature's  friend. 
Old  Germany,  too,  mourns  her  loss 

Upon  this  bloody  day — 
Hosts  of  her  children  sacrificed 

For  Britain's  shameful  pay. 
O  tyranny,  wo  of  the  small, 

And  curse  unto  the  great ; 
May  Europe's  darkness  never  reach 

Our  happy,  happy  State. 
But  virtue  and  intelligence 

Reign  endless  round  our  shore  ; 
That  to  give  peace,  this  to  enjoy, 

Till  time  shall  be  no  more. 
Gates  won  the  day— great  was  the  joy 

Which  echoed  through  our  land ; 
But  England's  power  in  all  her  strength 

We  still  had  to  withstand. 
Our  fate  stood  wavering  to  and  fro, 

Still  mighty  were  our  foes, 
And  hopeless  half  our  rightful  cause 

We'd  Washington  to  oppose. 
He  with  his  heroes  firm  as  rocks 

That  breast  the  ocean  tide, 
Stood  to  their  cause,  and  battled  well, 

Hard  prest  on  every  side. 
Good  Louis  of  the  gallant  French, 

A  nation  great  indeed, 
Sends  o'er  his  freedom-loving  troops 

Our  Washington  to  aid. 
And  bravely  fought  they  on  our  side 

Where'er  appeared  the  foe, 
This  noble  act  O  Gallia 

Shall  all  thy  deeds  outgo ! 


84 

Great  Franklin,  wonder  of  mankind 

For  us  this  deed  achieved, 
And  freedom's  friend,  the  good  Fayette, 

Whose  death  all  nations  grieved. 
O  what  a  sight  in  Heaven's  eye 

To  see  two  nations  join 
In  liberty,  in  virtue's  cause, 

For  good  of  ail  mankind  ! 
Then  are  those  nations  blest  indeed, 

Whate'er  they  do  shall  thrive, 
Guarded  by  the  unchanging  Power 

Their  foes— how  can  they  live  ! 
How  can  the  muse  o'erlook  good  Read, 

Who  spurned  Britannia's  gold, 
In  virlue  rich— poor  in  all  else, 

Yet  would  he  not  be  sold. 
"  Tell  your  proud  king  that  I  am  poor," 

He  said  indignantly ; 
"  Tell  him  with  all  his  boasted  wealth 

He  ae'er  could  purchase  me." 
So  honest  Paulding,  Williams,  Vert, 

Did  love  their  country 
Far  better  than  they  loved  wealth, 

The  price  of  liberty. 
O  that  was  virtue's  age  indeed, 

Columbia  e'er  be  so  ; 
Then  shalt  thou  ever,  ever  stand, 

Though  all  the  world  thy  foe. 
Where  famed  King's  Mountain  lifts  his  brow 

O'er  Carolina's  plain, 
See  Williams,  with  his  gallant  boys, 

The  bloody  fight  sustain. 
Here  Ferguson  led  on  to  war 

His  boasted  Marksmen  true, 
And  thought  our  gallants  to  defeat, 

But  we  had  Marksmen  too. 

Our  Rifle  Boys  never  dp 

A  trigger  draw  in  vain; 
They  soon  (a  ghastly  sight)  with  dead 

Had  covered  o'er  the  plain. 
Their  Chief  was  killed  but,  O,  too  dear 

A  price  for  him  we  paid  ; 
For  Williams,  gallant  Williams  brave, 

Was  numbered  with  the  dead  ! 
Mourn  for  him  ye  who  knew  him  best, 

Ye  virtue  who  approve, 


85 

Ah  mourn  ye  good  of  all  mankind, 

For  he  did  virtue  love. 
Sinking  in  death,  a  cry  was  heard 

Amidst  the  battle's  roar: 
"  O  mercy  on  us,  quarters  give 

We  cannot  fight  you  more  !" 
"  O  God,"  the  dying  Chief  did  ask, 

"  For  quarters  who  do  cry  ?" 
"  The  British,  Colonel — \ve  have  won" — 
"  Then  I  in  peace  do  die !" 
O  Williams  !  what  a  spirit  thine  ! 

Jehovah's  image  there ; 
When  such  have  for  our  freedom  died 

We  never  will  despair. 
Then  we  will  fight  unto  the  last 

Our  freedom  to  defend, 
Then  shall  our  country  know  no  change, 

Our  liberty  no  end. 
Next  Camden's  bloody  field  appears, 

Where  we  our  loss  bewail ; 
Here  with  us  fought  the  gallant  French, 

But  all  could  not  prevail. 

Brave  Marion's  glorious  band  here  fought, 

The  sons  of  chivalry, 
But  all  in  vain  ;— here  Jasper  fell, 

But  'twas  for  liberty. 

Here  fought  for  freedom  too  the  good, 

Here  fell  De  Kalb  the  brave, 
Covered  with  wounds  the  hero  died 

But  found  a  glorious  grave. 
"  Too  old  to  run,"  he  calmly  said, 
"  For  the  opprest  will  I 
Yield  cheerfully  a  waning  life, 

And  for  sweet  freedom  die." 
But  ere  he  fell  that  practised  arm 

Gave  many  a  ghastly  wound, 
For  many  a  Briton  there  lay  dead 

And  bleeding  on  the  ground. 
His  enemies  e'en  grieved  his  fate, 

And  some  there  were  who  cried 
"'  O  save,  O  save  the  baron  Kaib," 

This  he  himself  denied. 
Scarce  now  a  mark  is  to  be  found 

To  note  the  hero's  grave, 
But  lives  his  memory  still  dear 

On  either  side  the 


86 

Steuben,  another  chivalrous  knight, 

Who  came  to  set  us  free, 
Is  not  forgot — for  ever  blest 

Shall  be  his  memory. 
De  Kalb,  Steuben,  Lafayette  too, 

And  the  brave  Polander, 
Shall  ever  live  in  Freedom's  land, 

And  Freedom's  army  cheer. 
Next  comes  mad  Tarlton  on,  to  war 

At  Cowpen's  famous  field — 
And  thought  th'  Old  Wagoner  to  take, 

And  make  his  heroes  yield. 
But  Morgan  ever  was  awake — 

And  there  was  Howard  too, 
And  that  bold  youth,  polite  and  brave, 

Will.  Washington,  the  true. 
Here  sweeps  on  Tarlton,  sure  the  prize 

Which  he  so  eager  sought, 
Like  angry  cloud  as  o'erlthe  plain 

With  fiery  thunder  fraught. 
And  there,  firm,  Morgan's  chosen  band, 

To  stand  the  dreadful  shock, 
Unmoved  as  Alleghanian  piles 

Of  adamantine  rock. 
The  sun  had  tipt  the  neighboring  tops 

Of  pine,  or  spruce,  or  ash, 
When  furious  Britons  onward  drove, 

And  on  us  made  a  dash. 
But  'twon't  all  do,  for  Washington, 

The  Colonel  of  the  Horse  : 
And  his  brave  troops  have  drawn  their  sworus- 

An  invincible  force. 
Shrill  sounds  the  music  of  their  steel, 

As  blow  or  thrust  is  given  : 
Here  falls  the  Briton,  and  how  oft 

The  sons  of  right  and  Heaven. 
Old  Morgan  raves  like  lion  bold— 

A  truer  ne'er  was  born  ; 
Loud  sounds  his  voice  above  the  fight, 

To  hurl  his  chargers  on. 
Now  Tarlton — generous,  humane  soul — 

Wished  not  a  man  to  die ; 
And  to  secure  their  precious  lives, 

He  ordered  them  to  fly  ! 
And  then  commenc'd  a  glorious  race; 

From  merry  Cowpen's  plain : 


87 

Here  pompous  fly  the  noble  Brit, 

With  Morgan  in  his  train. 
Their  chargers  proved  themselves  of  blood, 

Indeed  far  more  than  mean  ; 
Their  riders  too  were  jockies  true, 

As  good  as  e'er  were  seen. 
But  we  had  men  and  chargers  too, 

Who  well  could  ride  or  run— 
And  many  an  English  horseman  died 

Before  the  race  was  done. 
Long  live  the  memory  of  the  man. 

That  gallant  little  Gaul, 
Who  slew  the  Briton,  and  thus  saved 

His  brave  commander's  fall ! 
A  health  to  Morgan,  long  and  deep, 

And  his  brave-hearted  men, 
Who  fought,  and  then  the  Briton  chased 

From  bloody,  fam'd  Cowpen  ! 
Where  is  great  Washington  meanwhile  ? 

Turn  to  Virginia's  coast, 
When  join  Columbians  and  French. 

To  awe  Cornwallis'  host. 
Fierce  our  proud  eagle  soars  on  high, 

Above  our  enemy — 
Rejoice !  rejoice  !  from  shore  to  shore  ! 

We're  free  !  we're  free  !  we're  free  ! 
Blow  loud,  ennobling  trump  of  Fame  ! 

George  and  our  arms  prevail  ;— 
Yes  ;  We  are  free  /—ecstatic  sound  !— 

Our  Independence  hail ! 
America,  supremely  great, 

Blest  by  the  smiles  of  peace. 
Live  nation  ever  as  thou  art, 

Thy  glory  ne'er  shall  cease. 
Where  are  the  men  who  set  thee  free  ' 

Many,  alas  !  have  died  ; 
But  to  revere  their  memory, 

Shall  be  a  nation's  pride. 

Thou  glorious  remnant  of  that  band. 

Who  live  to  bless  our  days, 
Scorn  not  the  humble  Muse's  prayer, 

The  humble  Poet's  praise. 
O,  may  your  future  time  be  sweet 

On  this  side  of  the  grave— 
A  bliss  to  come— thy  country  free, 

Which  you  have  bled  to  save. 


88 

One  spark  of  that  celestial  fire, 

Which  warmed  the  ardorous  breast, 
(I  ask  but  for  my  country's  good,) 

Thy  Poet's  high  bequest. 
Shade  of  the  Hero  !  fare  thee  well ! 

Mankind's  sincerest  friend, 
A  model  for  the  great  and  good, 

Their  worth  still  to  amend. 
Great  sage,  a  nation  sounds  thy  praise — 

JNations  thy  deeds  admire: 
Long  as  the  burning  sun  shall  roll, 

Thy  fame  shall  ne'er  expire  ;— 
But  still  shall  be  to  mankind  dear, 

Friend  to  the  sons  of  earth, 
Thy  life  a  chart  for  goodness'  self, 

For  greatness— moral  worth. 


THE  FRYING  PAN;  OR,  THIEF  CURED. 
Tom  Stealum  was  a  curlish  elf, 
And  loved  none  better  than  himself ; 
But  what  much  more  poor  Tom  distressed, 
Was  a  disease  that  him  possessed. 
Since  first  his  memory  he  could  tax, 
It  had  stuck  to  him  close  as  wax  : 
Indeed,  more  curious  complaint, 
No  scribbling  Doctor  e'er  could  paint; 
It  urges  men  to  do  what  soon 
Or  late  they'd  wish  they'd  let  alone; 
It  gives  the  fingers  such  an  itching, 
(By  Taylors  often  caught  by  stitching) 
That  on  whate'er  the  eye  doth  rest, 
These  meddling  things  would  be  possessed. 
Us  nature's  known,  but  by  the  feeling, 
By  rigid  moralists  called — stealing. 
But  stop,  ye  sages  grave,  profound, 
Much  better  name  for  it  I've  found: 

It  is  not  robbing,  and  I'll  show  it, 

Because  the  honest  often  do  it. 

It  is  not  thieving  ? — IS'o,  'tis  not ; 

In  fact,  the  name  I've  half  forgot. 

I  have  it  now — I  have,  by  jings  ! 

It's  simply  borrowing  others'  things— 

AVhich  they  can  have  by  coming  for, 

Or  just  appealing  to  the  LAW. 

Borrowing  for  stealing  is  the  name — 

Then  steal  and  borrow  why  not  the  same? 

To  me  'tis  one,  for  Books  I've  lent, 

Have  not  come  home,  nor  home  been  sent : 


89 

No  more  than  neighbour  Poly's  mare, 
Which  he  still  swears  was  stole  by  Waic. 
However,  let  these  things  all  go, 
And  since  they  are,  let  them  be  so. 
We're  talking  of  Tom  Stealum's  name, 
Or  .should  be,  which  is  all  the  same — 
And  of  his  freaks — not  few — far  known  ; 
To  'guile  the  hour,  we'll  tell  of  one. 
Tom  he  was  wed,  and  well  he  might, 
For  he  was  e'er  a  social  wight. 
'Mongst  many  things  which  wives  require, 
Is  something  used  about  the  fire  : 
Don't  frown,  sir — 'tis  not  tongs,  you  hate, 
That  may  have  rattled  round  your  pate : 
But  that  with  handle,  bottom  wide, 
In  which  the  meat  and  sop  are  fried. 
Perhaps  the  name  is  rare  to  man — 
To  woman  not — A  FRYING  PAN. 
And  straight  Tom  to  the  store  must  hie, 
For  Kitty  one  of  these  to  buy ; 
But  pain  oft  crosses  pleasure's  path, 
And  many  mishaps  human  hath  : 
For  Tom  must  pass  a  tavern  door, 
E'er  he  can  ever  reach  the  store; — 
And  as  he  went,  he  there  did  see 
A  few  good  friends  high  up  in  glee, 
Who  warmly  pressed  as  he  did  pass, 
And  Tom  must  take  a  single  glass. 
And  take  it  to  oblige  a  friend, 
For  Kitty's  cash  he  must  not  spend. 
Tom  lik'd  a  drink  full  well,  be  sure, 
And  lik'd  still  better  one  drink  more  .- 
He  took  the  second,  nothing  loth, 
For  one  eye  wet,  he  must  wet  both. 
Now,  he  should  go,  but  ne'er  'twill  do — 
When  treated,  he  must  treat  some  too : 
Poor  Kitty's  cash  must  for  it  pay, 
(With  care  laid  by  from  day  to  day;) 
But  well  he  knew  that  at  the  store 
He'd  buy  the  pan  a  little  lower, 
For  Master  Harry  e'er  was  kind, 
And  of  the  most  obliging  mind. 
'k  Two  drinks  !— at  two  we  cannot  cease, 
We'll  now  as  many  as  we  please." 
All  now  to  drinking  straightway  went, 
Nor  slackened  Tom  till  all  was  spent- 
Nay,  e'en  the  money  that  he  brought, 
And  was  the  frying  pan  to've  bought. 
Wine,  whiskey,  rum,  or  such  a  thing, 
Will  make  a  beggar  soon  a  king  : 


90 

But  then  comes  the  reflecting  hour, 
When  mind  resumes  her  reasoning  power — 
When  bones  are  sore,  and  head  doth  ache, 
And  limbs  like  conscience  dolh  quake- 
When  every  word,  and  act,  and  thought, 
Distorted  to  the  view  is  brought— 
That  fatal  hour  that  doth  destroy 
And  pay  in  wo  the  revel  joy. 
So  felt  poor  Tom,  when  upwards  raised 
His  heavy  eyes, and  round  him  gazed  : 
His  friends  were  strewn  around  about, 
Like  him,  the  tavern  door  without; 
The  sun  was  hastening  to  decline, 
Just  squinting  o'er  the  western  line. 
"  The  money  spent— no  pan  I've  got"— 
To  Tom  this  was  a  cannon  shot ; 
It  was  enough— Tom  sobered  fast, 
But  could  not  alter  what  was  past. 
44  Go  home  without  a  pan,  'twon't  do- 
Kitty  will  beat  me  black  and  blue  ; 
One  I  must  have,  but  how  to  get, 
indeed  it  puzzles  much  my  wit. 
The  only  chance  is  to  the  store, 
And  borrow,  as  I've  done  before  : 
1  know  they  hang  beside  the  door." 
No  sooner  said,  than  half-way  done — 
Tom  did  not  walk,  but  flew,  or  run, 
Nor  stopt  till  he  the  store  did  gain, 
And  found  three  customers  within — 
John  Beatemdown,  Frank,  and  Aunt  Kizzy, 
Who  kept  spry  Harry  pretty  busy. 
Tom  at  the  door  squatted  down, 
And  looked  inquiringly  around— 
And  saw  at  last  within  his  reach, 
The  very  object  of  his  search- 
Three  as  nice  Pans  e'er  seen  by  eye, 
Suspended  was  the  doorway  nigh. 
Tom  picked  his  time  when  no  one  saw, 
And  grasped  the  neatest  in  his  paw, 
And  bore  it  silently  away 
Ere  now  the  moon  had  shot  a  ray. 
Full  proud,  perhaps,  was  Grecian  Sandy, 
When  satiate  with  might  and  brandy, 
Upon  that  glorious — fatal  day, 
When  all  the  nations  owned  his  sway, 
But  could  not  think  so  blest  his  lot 
As  Tom,  when  now  the  Pan  he'd  got. 
Still  two  long  miles  had  he  to  tread, 
Ere  he  could  reach  his  happy  shed, 
To  glad  his  Kitty's  glistening  eyes 
With  the  sweet  Pan,  his  lawful  prize. 


91 

The  moon  shot  forth  her  purest  light, 

For  day  had  fled,  and  now  'twas  night. 

Tom  thought  on  tales  he'd  heard  of  old, 

Most  horrible — by  grandmarn  told: 

kt  Of  ghosts  and  goblins  from  the  waves— 

Of  sulphurous  lakes,  and  yawning  graves;' 

Oft  casting  back  his  anxious  view, 

P^or,  thought  he,  some  one  might  pursue. 

When  lo!  as  thus  he  looked  around, 

He  saw  a  something  on  the  ground  ! 

Dark — dark  as  midnight,  near  his  feet, 

A  body  round  and  tail  complete — 

The  very  shape  learned  he  had  been, 

In  which  Old  Nick  was  often  seen  ! 

Was  this  a  time  for  Tom  to  stand? 

r^0  i— Ere  his  heels  he  could  command  ; 

And  off  he  bolted  at  a  pace, 

That  might  no  frighted  wight  disgrace. 

But  still,  to  Tom's  affrighted  view, 

The  dreadful  thing  did  him  pursue  : 

Close  at  his  heels,  with  mighty  bound, 

It  seemed  to  fly  along  the  ground. 

Poor  Tom  was  in  a  mortal  sweat, 

And  every  hair  was  stiffly  set ! 

Thus  long  and  mightily  he  ran, 

But  still  held  on  unto  the  Pan  : 

O'er  fences  high  and  gullies  broad — 

For  he  had  lost  the  common  road; 

And,  howsoe'er  he'd  turn  or  tack, 

The  thing  was  still  close  at  his  back ! 

Quite  wearied  grown,  at  last  he  thought 

To  lose  the  Pan,  the  best  resort; 

Not  doubting  he  that  from  the  first, 

For  this,  the  Devil  thus  him  curst — 

And  that  if  he  should  himo'ertake, 

He  would  most  terribly  him  rack. 

Quite  loth — but  down  the  Pan  he  threw, 

And  down  the  Devil  floundered  too. 

But  Tom  thought  not  himself  secure, 

And  ran  still  faster  than  before : 

And  ran  home  quite,  as  tells  our  rhyme, 

And  saved  his  bacon  for  that  time — 

And  ne'er  was  known  to  take  again 

The  value  of  a  single  pin. 

Now,  folks  may  laugh  at  poor  Tom's  case, 

And  think  his  running  a  disgrace. 

Men  shadows  often  try  to  catch — 

In  this  they  are  for  Tom  a  match  : 

Is  it  aught  worse  as  Stealum  ran 

From  SHADOW  OF  A  FRYING  PAN? 


POETRY. 

When  cares  disturb,  and  woes  oppress, 
And  mind  and  thought  are  but  distress,. 
Still,  still  my  balm,  my  refuge  be, 
Divine,  inspiring  Poetry  ! 
Low,  common  things  she  doth  impeach, 
And  lifts  the  soul  beyond  their  reach  : 
Her  spirit  counts  man's  pains  as  naught* 
JNot  worth  a  care,  not  worth  a  thought. 
Up  to  her  sacred,  heavenward  seat, 
The  soul  beset  may  well  retreat, — 
Smile  at  the  ill  which  threats  below, 
Now  scorned — no  longer  now  a  foe, — 
Fly  to  the  realms  of  peace  divine. 
Where  joy  and  endless  beauty  shine; 
Safe  and  securely  lifted  there, 
Begone,  ye  ills,  that  breed  despair ! 
Now,  world,  thy  sorrows  are  forgot — 
Inert  I  feel — I  fear  them  not : 
Rage  through  the  hearts  of  others  sore — 
To  me  unknown — ye  harm  no  more. 
Unto  thy  sons,  thy  temple  fair, 
Continual  smiles  to  welcome  there  : 
For  ever  calling  them  to  bless, 
When  world  and  worldlings  would  distress, 
Be  thou  my  friend  when  ills  betide! 
This— and  1  spurn  all  things  beside. 


FRAGMENT. 

hill  of  peace,  where  many  an  hour  I've  spent,. 
Free  from  the  pain  of  loathsome  discontent — 
Where  melancholy  dares  not  breathe  a  sigh, 
To  taint  the  zephyr  as  it  flutters  by, 
1  must,  alas  !  bid  thee  a  long  farewell — 
In  scenes  like  these,  perhaps,  no  more  to  dwell ! 
Necessity,  the  tyrant  of  the  will, 
Commands  me  go,  though  I  would  linger  still. 

*        *        *        To  distant  climes  Istray, 
Far  o'er  the  billow  of  the  watery  way. 
I  must  obey,  for  duty  bids  me  go" — 
Was  ever  man  by  pleasure  wounded  so? 
Yes! — Sublunary  pleasures,  once  enjoyed, 
Are  turned  to  pain  ere  yet  their  sweets  have  cloyed. 


93 

TO  THE  EVENING  STAR. 

Mysterious  light,  (hat  wanders  thus  along, 
Brightest  and  fairest  of  the  astral  throng, 
From  whence, that  beauty  which  is  thine  alone  > 
Where  else  hut  from  the  beatific  throne? 
Thy  nature  what?— Some  teeming  world  like  thia- 
Or  some  blest  realm  of  spiritual  bliss  ? 
With  hill  and  dale,  and  river,  mountain,  tree— 
Or  hjmp  of  saints,  heirs  of  eternity — 
With  air  perfumed  with  all  the  sweets  of  Heaven, 
And  blissful  sights,  which  to  the  blest  are  given  ? 
Thy  beauty  perfect,  but  thyself  unknown— 
Nor  is  it  meet  for  man  that  knowledge  own  ; 
Sufficient  thus  at  night  to  cheer  his  heart, 
And  know  thy  being  not  the  fruit  of  art. 
Shine  on,  bright  world  of  ethereal  fire, 
Enough  for  man  to  see  and  to  admire  ! 


THE  AUTUMN  FOREST. 

Gods!  what  a  prospect— all  the  rainbow's  forms 
And  tints  are  represented  here !     Green,  red, 
White,  yellow,  purple, — all  conjoined 
To  render  beauteous  beauty's  own  self! 
No  pencil  fired  with  celestial  art, 
No  fancy  soaring  in  ecstatic  heights, 
Can  paint  or  tell  the  beauty  of  the  scene. 
The  yellow  Poplar  and  the  Dogwood  red  ; 
The  stately  Oak— by  turns,  white,  purple,  blue,- 
All,  all  combine  to  form  a  prospect  grand  ! 
The  sable  Pine,  far  tow'ring  o'er  them  all, 
And  lowly  Cedar's  darkest,  deepest  green— 
The  withered  Hickory  and  the  naked  Ash,— 
All,  all  set  off  the  never-tiring  scene  ! 
Enough ! — Who  sees  and  who  does  not  enjoy  ? 


INVOCATION  TO  THE  MUSES. 

Why  slumber  Muses  ?    Why  awake  in  vain, 
Lulled  or  affrighted  by  the  quivering  pane. 
Attend  once  more,  as  once  thou  wast  as  kind, 
Prepare  the  *  *  *   fo  amuse  the  Hind; 
As  when  stern  Winter  with  his  dreary  cold, 
And  business  first  o'er  all  his  pow'rs  rolled. 
Once  thou  wast  kind  to  guide  his  humble  lines 
Into  thy  walks  where  endless  pleasure  shines. 


94 

Attend  him  now,  and  all  bis  faults  forgive, 
Be  his  companion  that  his  thoughts  may  li?e. 
Nature  is  his— Shall  Nature  lose  her  fire 
Until  the  heart  that  moves  her  shall  expire  ? 
Turn,  heavenly  beings,  Goddesses  divine, 
Retouch  my  heart  and  round  its  workings  shine 


A  MIND  OF  HIGH  DEGREE. 

The  noble  mind  is  ne'er  at  ease 

In  common  wnlks  of  human  strife, 
'Tis  always  soaring  from  its  sphere 

Into  the  realms  of  higher  life. 
It  cannot  shine.     Like  air  confined 

'Tis  ever  struggling  to  get  free  ; 
Pants  for  a  range  great  as  itself 

For  kindred,  action,  liberty. 
The  world,  though  great,  for  it  is  small, 

No  human  ends  can  satisfy, 
Aims  at  a  range  unbounded,  bright, 

Leaves  the  low  earth  for  realms  more  high. 
For  it  time's  meted  space  is  short, 

Time  fits  but  for  eternity ; 
Earthly  things  it  reckons  naught, 

To  live  a  bliss,  a  crime  to  die. 


MERIT. 

Can  merit  ever  toil  in  vain, 
Condemned  to  live  in  hope  and  pain, 
Deserving  more  than  what  she  craves, 
And  not  enjoying  what  she  has? 
She  e'er  by  ambition  is  fired, 
The  better  known  the  more  admired  , 
Too  precious  to  be  bought  and  sold, 
None  would  exchange  for  others'  gold. 
So  many  envy,  so  many  admire, 
So  few  possess,  so  few  desire  ! 


THE  INVENTION  OF  SIMPLE  JOHN 

A  wealthy  Squire  lived  once, 

And  many  a  son  had  he, 
And  one  of  them  a  greater  dunce 

You  scarce  did  ever  see. 


95 

In  spite  of  all  his  master's  care, 
In  thumps  and  threats  in  spite, 
He  ne'er  would  any  counsel  hear, 

Nor  learn  to  read  or  write. 
His  P'a  found  out  it  done  no  good 

To  send  the  lad  to  school, 
And  that  to  learn  he  never  would 

He  was  so  great  a  fool. 
One  day  10  John  his  father  said, 

(John,  glad,  did  hear  no  doubt,) 
The  squirrels  pester  much  my  field 

John,  you  must  keep  them  out. 
No  other  task  will  I  impose, 

But  take  your  dog  and  gun, 
And  scare  the  squirrels,  kill  the  crows, 

And  make  the  rabbits  run." 
This  lesson  John  soon  got  by  heart, 

And  wheresoe'er  he'd  go, 
He  sung  quite  gaily,  "  Scare  the  squirrels, 

Scare  rabbit,  cripple  crow." 
And  long  was  John  pleased  with  his  task 

Of  hunting  all  the  day, 
But  weary  he  did  get  at  last 

Of  scaring  birds  away. 
John  studied  hard  a  way  to  find 
To  keep  them  from  the  corn, 
So  that  they  might  not  eat  the  grain 

Whenever  he  was  gone. 
At  last  the  happy  hour  did  come 

When  this  he  did  find  out, 
And  if  you  will  attention  pay 

You'll  comprehend,  no  doubt. 
John  saw  the  squirrels  only  ate 

Thevery  outside  row;*, 
The  best  way  then  to  keep  them  off 

Is  to  have  none  of  those  I 
And  now  you  John's  invention  know 

I'll  bid  you  an  adieu, 
But  do  not  tell  to  Bun  or  Crow 
Who  told  the  secret  you. 


BRUNSWICK. 

Let  others  rove  for  wealth  or  joy 
Far  o'er  the  earth,  or  o'er  the  sea, 

Let  me,  contented,  life  enjoy, 

For  Brunswick  is  the  place  for  me. 


96 

Although  my  native  home  'tis  not 

Though  I  may  stray  o'er  land  or  main, 
Ye  Powers  grant  me  the  happy  lot 

To  see  the  lovely  place  again. 
Land  of  the  fair,  the  wise,  the  brave, 

Let  others  hate  thee  if  they  will, 
May  I  no  happier  climate  crave, 

But  still  enjoy  and  love  thee  still. 
Thy  daughters  virtuous  as  fair, 

Thy  sons  are  brave,  and  wise,  and  true, 
Still  lovely  virtue  be  their  care 

And  good — not  evil — e'er  pursue. 
Thanks  to  the  bounteous  soil  which  yields 

A  full  reward  to  industry; 
O  Brunswick  !  thy  delightful  fields 

Give  plenty  without  luxury. 
Contented  be  with  what  fate  sends, 

Strive  not  for  peace  with  gold  in  vain, 
For  wealth  and  misery  are  friends, 

And  every  pleasure  hath  its  pain. 
Adieu,  dear  County,  peace  with  thee, 

Forgive  thy  humble  poet's  praise  ; 
As  thou  art  now,  for  ever  be, 

Home  of  the  wise,  the  brave,  the  free. 


A  MOON-LIGHT  NIGHT,  WITH  SNOW. 

The  cheerful  blaze  glows  on  the  hearth, 
And  silent  is  the  cricket's  mirth  : 
The  busy  wife  renews  her  care, 
For  much  fi  om  rest  she  has  to  spare, 
And  comfort  seems  within  to  reign — 
Look  out,  around  upon  the  plain. 
Although  'tis  winter,  and  'tis  night, 
The  prospect  there  is  fair  and  bright, 
The  earth  is  clothed  in  purest  white. 
The  Moon  resplendent  overhead 
Doth  mid-day  light  enchanting  shed, 
Ten  thousand  sparkles  in  the  snow 
Doth  now  as  diamond,  rubies  show, 
As  mimicking  those  fires  above, 
Which  now  in  beauteous  grandeur  move. 
Faii-  night !  fair  prospect! — joys  extend 
Unto  the  earth's  remotest  end, 
And  fill  with  raptures  of  delight 
Those  who  enjoy  this  lovely  night. 


97 

And  DOW  we  will  again  retire 
Back  to  the  cheerful  blazing  fire, 
Which  pleasant  musings  shall  increase — 
Peace  with  ourselves — with  all  at  peace. 


PATRICK  HENRY. 

Seraph  of  song  !  awake,  awake, 
And  tune  thy  chords  for  Henry's  sake, 
A  nobler  theme  would  make  thee  vain, 
Or  craving,  thou  couldst  never  gain. 
To  thee  belong  his  praises  small, 
A  nation's  voice  shall  utter  all ; 
Though  weak  thy  tongue  and  full  of  fault 
Thou  wilt  not  lower,  and  can't  exalt. 
GREAT  ORATOR  OF  NATURE  born, 
Created,  say,  her  to  adorn. 
His  was  the  king  of  minds— His  tongue 
Was  monarch  where  its  dictates  rung; 
E'en  noble  souls  beneath  its  sway, 
Enraptured,  vanquished,  shrunk  away. 
Before  the  flashes  of  his  mind, 
All  hearts,  all  powers  seemed  reclined  ; 
His  thunders  waked,  a  sleeping  sphere 
And  night,  as  mid-day,  did  appear. 
One  sentence  fired  ten  thousand  souls, 
And  seemed  to  sound  beyond  the  poles ; 
Millions  influenced  by  a  breath, 
He-echoed  "  LIBERTY  OR  DEATH!" 
False  pen  !     For  ever  flee  the  light, 
Nor  test  thy  strength  before  the  sight. 
False,  filthy  serpent,  why  so  bold, 
Thou  canst  not  tell  what  can't  be  told  ; 
Alone  the  richest  fancy  paints 
Those  beings  great,  allied  to  saints. 


REFLECTIONS  ON  HOME. 

f  i  this  rny  home  ?"    Ah,  my  own  place, 
Where  none  can  say  depart  thou  hence. 
The  monarch  of  a  peaceful  home, 
Happier  lhaa  king  of  Greece  or  Rome  ! 
In  this  dear  spot  let  me  recline, 
And  ne'er  for  others'  wealth  repine. 
My  days  be  spent  in  useful  toil 
To  serve  my  country — not  to  spoil. 
Though  I  should  travel  o'er  earth's  bouml 
To  seek  for  peace  where  never  found. 


98 

May  I,  when  all  my  wand'ring  's  o'er, 

Return  and  find  a  home  once  more; 

When,  swift,  my  days  shall  peaceful  glide, 

Still  happy,  and  still  satisfied. 

And  when  my  State  my  aid  require, 

Let  me  assist,  or  else  expire. 

O  let  me  live  for  mankind's  use, 

And  not  as  some,  for  their  abuse. 

Aid  me  in  virtue's  cause,  Most  High, 

For  good  to  live  and  good  to  die. 


FRIENDSHIP. 

This  life  is  chequered  o'er  with  ill, 

With  good  and  bad  indeed  : 
Beneath  the  root  of  every  joy 

Wo  plants  its  poisonous  seed. 
See  Friendship,  balm  of  human  life, 

With  pleasure  fill  the  heart : 
Its  peerless  nature  breeds  a  pang — 

Alas  !  for  friends  must  part ! 
Why  should  men  covet  any  bliss, 

When  sorrows  lurk  within? 
That  moment  he  the  pleasure  tastes 

It  is  transformed  to  pain  ! 
O,  Friendship,  once  ideal  joy, 

Alas,  thou  hast  betrayed  ! 
Thy  happy  moments  have  been  few, 

Thus  by  their  loss  outweighed  ! 
Farewell,  fond  hope  of  bliss  on  earth  ! 

No  more  thou  shalt  deceive — 
When  for  a  moment's  feigned  delight 

I  must  for  ever  grieve ! 


THE  INDIAN  CAPTIVE. 

I  once  had  home  and  parents  too, 
A  name,  but  now  I've  none  : 

Stern  fortune's  bitter  cruelty 
This  tender  frame  hath  borne. 

Man,  cursed  by  fate,  may  struggle  still, 
His  nature  firm  and  strong — 

But  Woman,  weak,  oppress'd  by  wo. 
Cannot  continue  long. 

"Twas  on  a  sunny  day,  long  since, 
Far  in  the  dreary  VVest, 


99     - 

My  mother  sat  beside  the  door, 

I  slept  upon  her  breast. 
My  little  brother  had  gone  forth 

With  father  to  the  plough— 

0  fatal  day  !  O  luckless  hour! 
Thy  sorrows  pain  me  now  ! 

1  saw  my  mother  shriek  and  die, 
My  sister  shared  her  fate, 

And  I  alone  was  spared  to  feel 

A.  misery  doubly  great.  . 
This  dreadful  work  was  quickly  o'er, 

They  led  me  straight  away 
Where  there  my  father  they  had  killed, 

And  my  poor  brother  lay. 
Though  but  a  child,  I  shrieked  with  pam 

This  horrid  sight  to  see : 
The  Indians  laughed  to  see  me  cry, 

And  bid  me  quiet  be. 
Long  did  we  travel  o'er  the  plain, 

And  through  the  briery  wood  ; 
My  feet  were  bare,  my  clothes  were  torn, 

My  way  was  marked  with  blood! 
This  anguish  caused  me  sore  to  weep, 

And  beg  for  help  in  vain  ; 
My  savage  master  raised  his  club, 

And  bid  me  not  complain. 
So  long  we  had  pursued  our  course, 

The  Indians  e'en  were  tired ; 
And  had  I  not  been  let  to  rest, 

I  sure  must  have  expired. 
Some  tried  to  sleep,  as  well  as  1, 

And  some  were  gathering  food. 
When  lo!  a  signal  gun  was  heard— 

The  While  men  had  pursued ! 
The  guilty  wretches  rose  at  once, 

So  dreadful  was  their  fright, 
And  threw  away  their  arms  and  all 

That  could  impede  their  flight. 
My  master,  that  I  should  not  mark 

The  way  which  they  might  take, 
Gave  me  a  fatal  blow,  he  thought — 

'Twas  long  ere  I  did  wake. 
1  looked  around,  and  all  was  dark. 

More  dreadful  death  is  not; 
Far  better  if  1  had  not  lived, 

So  wretched  was  my  lot. 


100 

What  could  1  do,  a  little  child, 

Thus  horribly  alone  ? 
Think  light  of  sorrow,  happy  few, 

Who  sorrow  ne'er  have  knowu. 
I  oft  had  heard  my  mother  tell 

Of  One  who,  far  on  high, 
Did  take  delight  to  bless  ail  those 

Who  for  His  help  do  cry. 
I  prayed  Him  to  befriend  me  then, 

And  free  me  from  my  thrall ; 
And  to  protect  and  aid  me  through 

Whatever  might  befall. 
The  savage  beasts  that  rove  the  wood, 

Were  howling  all  around  ; 
Dread  horror  was  in  every  sight, 

And  horror  in  each  sound. 
And  thus  I  lay  full  many  an  hour, 

With  hunger  sore/  oppress'd, 
Without  a  friend,  except  'twas  God- 
No  foe  did  me  molest. 
At  last  the  light  spread  o'er  the  sky, 

And  darkness  flew  away  ; 
J  hoped  to  find  my  home  again, 

And  thought  I  knew  the  way. 
I  found  a  cooling  spring,  and  drank — 

The  fruit  on  every  side 
I'd  seen  the  Indians  eat,  so  I 

Was  well  enough  supplied. 
All  day  I  wandered  thus  along, 

And  saw  none  else  beside — 
I  hoped  to  find  my  native  place, 

And  die  where  mother  died. 
Again  I  passed  the  lonesome  night 

Beneath  a  spreading  tree ; 
Again  the  wild  beasts  howled  around, 

But  none  did  trouble  me. 
Next  morn  1  rose  up  with  the  sun, 

And  still  did  not  despair — 
And  still  bent  homewards,  as  1  thought, 

But  had  not  travelled  far, 
Before  an  opening  in  the  wood 

Delighted  much  my  mind — 
1  knew  'twas  not  my  own  dear  home, 

But  hoped  a  home  to  find. 

A  hideous  savage  straight  appeared 
To  my  affrighted  eyes — 


10) 

Hushed  forward  with  a  fiendish  yell, 

And  claimed  me  as  his  prize. 
Full  many  a  long  and  tedious  day 

1  spent  in  servitude — 
Shared  with  the  Indian  girls  their  toils, 

And  shared  their  scanty  food. 
At  last  a  murdering  band  set  out 

For  the  afar-off East; 
My  master  went  along  with  them. 

And  I  among  the  rest. 
I  saw  the  bloody  deed  complete- 
No  age  nor  sex  was  spared  : 
The  flames  consumed  the  White  man's  home. 

And  each  the  plunder  shared. 
This  done,  for  home  we  took  our  way, 

And  I  marked  well  the  track — 
By  dropping  bushes  all  along, 

1  could  again  come  back. 
And  this  I  did  when  not  perceived, 

Right  well  the  way  I  knew— 
And  no  one  found  out  my  escape, 

Till  too  late  to  pursue. 

Yet  what  avails  me  in  this  life, 

My  parents'  name  forgot? 
I  have  no  kindred  that  1  know — 

O  !  tis  a  hapless  lot ! 
Here  I  must  wander  all  alone, 

In  tliis  domain  of  grief: 
None  call  me  sister ! — Naught  but  death 

Can  give  to  me  relief! 


A  FAREWELL  TO  MEHERRIN. 

Meherrin  !  river  of  the  hills, 
I've  spent  my  happiest  days  by  thee ; 

I've  wandered  up  thy  many  rills- 
Romantic,  wild  as  any  be. 

The  time  hath  come  when  I  depart, 
Perhaps  in  distant  lands  to  dwell ; 

I  go !  O  how  it  pains  my  heart 
To  bid  Meherrin — thee  farewell! 

Oft  have  I  in  ihy  limpid  stream 

My  youthful  limbs  enraptured  thrown, 

Without  a  thought,  without  a  dream, 
That  we,  alas  !  should  part  so  soon  ! 


'102 

Tis  well  that  man  knows  not  his  fate, 

For  future  pain  would  peace  destroy ; 
And  wo  foretold,  is  doubly  great, 

And  joy,  foreknown,  is  no  more  joy. 
Oft  on  thy  banks  I've  strayed  along, 

To  pick  up  pebbles  on  thy  shore, 
And  listen  to  the  vernal  song — 

But,  ah  !  those  happy  days  are  o'er ! 
Thy  peaceful  groves,  no  longer  green, 

Yet  still  possess  a  charm  for  me — 
'Tis  recollection  clothes  the  scene 

In  beauty,  pleasure,  harmony. 
On  objects  once,  now  not  less  dear, 

As  thus  I  cast  my  eyes  around, 
A  boding  thought,  a  gentle  fear. 

Tells  1  shall  no  more  tread  this  ground. 
If  so,  I  still  will  be  content — 

For,  whatsoe'er  mankind  may  choose, 
Whate'er  kind  goodness  may  have  lent, 

We're  bound — and  why  should  not  we  loose 
Again,  my  native  groves,  farewell! 

This  eye  may  ne'er  behold  thee  more ; 
Meherrin,  lovely  stream,  farewell — 

I'm  called  unto  a  distant  shore  ! 


SCRAPS  FROM  EXPERIENCE. 

The  forward  man  is  called  a  fool — 

The  over-diffident  just  so: 
The  first  is  found  in  folly's  school, 

Unto  the  last  she  is  a  foe. 

The  medium  'tis  best  to  choose, 
Rather  than  run  into  extremes  : 

Trust  nothing  far,  for  you  may  lose- 
Scarce  any  thing  is  what  it  seems. 

Would  you  be  wise  ? — be  foolish  too ; 

Would  you  be  happy  ?— first  endure 
Such  ills  as  will  not  far  undo — 

Your  happiness  will  then  be  pure. 

Have  you  talents? — nurse  them  long  ; 

They'll  strike  the  wonder-stricken  eyes, 
And  dazzle  if  not  please  the  throng — 

They  can't  long  gaze  to  criticise. 


103 


OCTOBER  17,  1777. 

A  precious  tear  for  those  who  fell 

On  this  evenlfulday; 
Yet  gloriously  they  paid  the  debt 

Which  e'en  the  brave  must  pay. 
They  fought  and  bled,  and  for  us  died— 

For  us  unborn,  unknown — 
For  their  dear  injured  country, 

And  left  her  not  forlorn. 
Your  fame  and  honour  ne'er  shall  die, 

For  liberty  who  fought; 
By  nature  ye  taught  to  live  free, 

Us  by  example  taught. 
The  fate  of  millions  was  at  stake, 

Their  lives— ah,  liberty  : 
Each  patriot  sword,  nerved  by  a  hand, 

None  but  their  Chief  could  see. 
He  knew,  afar,  that  Guardian  Power, 

Which  e'er  watched  round  his  head, 
Was  busy  in  the  bloody  strife, 

And  round  His  power  shed. 
Peace  to  the  ashes  of  the  dead, 

Embalmed  in  honours,  ye, — 
You,  too,  eujoy,  who  now  survive, 

An  equal  share  of  glory. 
This  to  our  friends. — To  foes  who  bled, 

Though  deadly  foes  indeed, 
Dear  bought  (he  palm  of  victory — 

More  'splendant  glory's  meed. 
Columbians  !  recollect  this  day, 

Know  what  your  fathers  did  ; 
You  owe  the  same  unto  your  sons, 

Which  they  have  so  well  paid. 
When  peace  would  bless  you,  let  her  smile, 

Ah,  let  her,  let  her  reign — 
'Tis  she  that  honours  every  land 

When  war  and  strife  are  vain. 


PLEASURE— HAPPINESS. 

Ye  that  count  on  years  of  pleasure, 
Take  it  while  ye  can  possess  ; 

For  me,  ah  me,  no  earthly  treasure 
Can  augment  my  happiness. 


104 

Time  and  place  have  no  charms  for  mev 

All,  alas,  disgusts  me  quite — 
None  the  same  twice  ever  saw  me — 

Change  alone  can  give  delight. 
What  are  riches,  fame,  and  honour, 

Which  may  happen  to  befall  ? 
Scarce  have  we  time  to  thank  the  donor, 

Ere  their  sweets  begin  to  pall. 
Kingdoms,  heroes,  men,  are  nothin  g, 

Happiness  and  pain  the  same — 
Ever  changing,  ever  passing, 

No  trace  that  they  ever  came. 
The  ties  of  kindred  but  a  jest  is 

Friendship  often  hath  undone — 
Filling  with  anxieties, 

Doubling  sorrow  due  to  one. 
Come,  divine  Philosophy, 

Cold-hearted  as  the  arctic  North  -r 
Virtue  !  thou  and  Liberty 

Can  give  the  honest  peace  enough- 


DEATH. 

Pause,  mortal,  in  thy  mad  career, 

And  think,  if  thou  hast  not  before, 
Upon  that  awful  moment,  near, 

When  death  shall  beckon  at  your  door. 
Spend  but  a  thought  upon  that  scene, — 

Conceive  the  anguish  of  the  mind 
When  you  shall  quit  this  loved  terrene, 

And  leave  all  earthly  things  behind. 
Just  entering  on  another  stage, 

To  you  a  dark  and  boundless  waste- 
When  Time  must  quit  his  measured  age, 

And  minutes  then  for  ever  last. 
Think  not  that  period  far  from  thee 

When  you  shall  struggle  in  Death's  power 
For,  ah  !  each  moment  that  may  be, 

And  each  doth  haste  thai  dreadful  hour. 
Pregnant  with  death  each  minute  flies, 

And  leaves  us — leaves  us  nearer  death  L 
No  sooner  born,  but  straight  it  dies — 

All  life's  boast  a  second's  breath ! 
Though  far  that  hour,  as  we  esteem, 

The  intervening  space  will  passt 


105 

And  be,  as  other  years,  a  dream , 

All  fled  away,  and  not  a  trace ! 
That  hour  is  ever,  then,  at  hand, 

Though  it  should  come  another  day, 
Or  be  deferred  for  many  a  year, 

Still— still  as  short  would  life  appear. 
When  sages  shudder  at  Death's  call, 

Philosophers,  nay,  Christians,  too, 
And  Christ  could  taste  the  bitter  gall, 

How  can  feeble  mortals  dare ! 


THE  CHASE. 

Hark !— O'er  the  hills  the  hunter's  horn 
Sounds  forth  its  notes  to  greet  the  morn  ; 
All  nature  roused  to  pleasure's  feast, 
Behold  the  splendours  of  the  East ! 
In  glory  bright  the  horizon, 
Still  joyous  rings  the  sounding  horn  ; 
Hark  ! — Other  notes  the  ears  assail, 
The  blood-hounds  catch  the  scented  gale, 
And  echo  brisk  from  every  hill, 
Hist !  the  inspiring  sound — be  still ! 
(What  music  is  that  floats  the  air, 
With  nature's  tones  can  ere  compare  ?) 
And  now  the  wily  fox  is  up, 
(No  more  on  the  fat  goose  to  sup.) 
See,  o'er  the  brow  of  yonder  height, 
The  eager  huntsmen  meet  the  sight- 
All  scattered  in  the  lengthened  chase, 
Still  striving  to  increase  their  pace. 
Their  fiery  steeds  like  whirlwinds  fly, 
And  earth  seems  trembling  as  the  sky ; 
Each  for  the  sport  alike  as  keen — 
But  now  the  pack  can,  too,  be  seen  ; 
Each  striving  each  to  leave  behind. 
And  each  seems  swifter  than  the  wind. 
The  Fox  beholds  his  coming  fate, 
And  turns,  and  turns,  but  now  too  late ; 
Bold  Rattler  rushes  on  the  prey, 
And  wins  the  triumph  of  the  day. 
As  if  imbued  with  reason's  pride, 
He  stretches  at  his  master's  side  : 
His  looks  show  plain  his  happiness, 
When  he  receives  the  fond  caress. 
The  swifter  steed,  too,  looks  amain, 
The  second  victor  of  the  plain  : 


106 

His  conscious  worth  shines  in  his  eye, 
And  seems  his  comrades  to  defy ; 
The  heart  reclines  in  either  breast, 
And  smiling  nature  bids  it  rest. 
Who  that  does  not  belie  his  race, 
But  owns  the  beauties  of  the  chase  ? 


DISAPPOINTMENT. 

Oh,  Disappointment !  man's  relentless  scourge, 
Keen  as  the  dagger  of  a  treacherous  friend — 

Through  heavenly  hope  she  chooses  us  to  urge, 
Hence  poison'd  sweets,  wUh  all  her  bitter  blend- 


WORDS  OF  WASHINGTON. 

Columbia,  hear  !  your  Washington  doth  speak — 

List  all,  ye  freemen  !  wisdom's  counsel  seek  ; 

Hush  every  echo  in  this  mighty  bound — 

Ye  breezes  waft  the  mandate  far  around  ! 

Methinks  yon  brook,  aw'd  at  the  sage's  voice, 

Withholds  life  rage,  while  silence  doth  rejoice  ; 

Yon  cloud,  as  wmg'd  with  light'ning  doth  appear. 

Arrests  its  flight,  and  almost  seems'to  hear. 

Forbear,  weak  pen  !  'tis  impious  to  stray — 

Great  George  unto  his  children  thus  doth  say  : 

"  Dear  as  our  freedom,  is  our  union  dear; 

'Tis  justly  so.     Remove  the  proper  care 

Of  that  great  pillar,  mystically  wrought, 

Your  nation  falls,  your  freedom  comes  to  naught ; 

Yes,  even  so ;— that  much  priz'd  liberty, 

That  sweetest  treasure,  shall  no  longer  be  ! 

Though  foes,  detestable  e'en  for  their  worth, 

(Ve  have  them  far  around,  all  o'er  the  earth,) 

Shall  dare  to  tell  you  otherwise  than  this. 

And  slily  tempt  you,  as  was  Eve  from  bliss. 

Believe  the  wretches  not,  it  stands  confest 

Your  greatest  stay— your  liberty  itself; 

Cherish  for  it  the  most  sincere  esteem, 

And  never  wander  in  destruction's  dream  ; 

With  guardian  care  watch  o'er  the  sacred  ties, 

Which  makes  you  one,  of  unallied  Allies. 

Every  inducement  to  this  end  is  brought : 

Can  interest  teach  you? — then  indeed  you're  taught. 

Or  can  you  glory  in  your  country's  name  ? 

Great  nation,  yes  !    Ask  envy,  or  ask  fame ; 


107 

Virtue  must  bind,  if  virtue  you  have  got, 

Say  then  it  binds  you,  or  you  have  it  not. 

But  still  your  interest  must  supremely  bind  : 

Obey  its  dictates — truth  will  ever  find. 

Whate'er  can  tempt  you  to  despise  your  laws  ? 

If  they  oppress,  you  can  remove  the  cause  ; 

If  poison  in  a  serpent  chance  to  dwell, 

The  same  hath  power  this  poison  to  expel ; 

You  blame  the  law— you  execrate  its  sway— 

You  made  the  law,  then  alter  or  obey. 

Let  knowledge  teach  what  really  you  are — 

To  teach  your  children  you  will  well  prepare ; 

Your  laws  flow  from  the  virtue  of  the  mind, 

The  most  enlighten'd,  then,  must  be  the  most  refin'd. 

Avoid  expense,  but  recollect  the  phrase, 

That '  present  caution  future  danger  sways  ;' 

Be  peace  your  aim,  with  all  on  earth  below  : 

Would  you  enjoy  ? — be  careful  to  bestow. 

Did  Providence,  indeed,  then  not  connect 

Whate'er  we  are  with  what  we  might  expect  ? 

Can  vice  expect  as  much  as  virtue? — say, 

All  that  ennobles  is  responsive, '  Nay.' 

Be  independent,  since  you  so  are  made, 

Sway'dnot  by  fondness  for  another  sway'd  ; 

For  he  who  loves  or  hates  must  be  a  slave, 

Thus  to  an  honest  man — thus  to  a  knave. 

Be  watchful  ever  in  the  sacred  cause, 

Or  else  you  sleep,  perhaps,  in  ruin's  jaws  ; 

As  some  great  household  charge,  mind  well  your  state, 

Divide  your  care,  or  it  may  be  too  late. 

Act  well  your  part,  and  be  devoid  of  fear, 

When — dear  as  your  freedom,  is  your  union  dear." 


AMERICAN  SAILOR. 

';  There  is  the  sailor,  young  and  bold," 
Regardless  of  the  wind  and  cold, 
"  Still  studious  of  the  wind  and  tide, 
From  pole  to  pole  our  commerce  guide  ;" 
Fearless  of  an  enemy's  power, 
Fearless  of  a  red  hot  shower, 
"  But  studious  of  the  wind  and  tide, 
From  pole  to  pole  our  commerce  guide." 
When  freedom  calls  them  out  to  fight, 
In  thunder  bursts  the  sailor's  might — 
When  cannons  awe  the  coward  ear, 
The  freeborn  seaman  scorns  to  fear  : 
But  light  the  match,  and  fire  away, 
For  freedom  and  America. 


108 

Bold  tars,  bold  tars,  what  death  can  fright, 
When  Liberty  and  Fame's  in  sight? 
When  Liberty  and  Fame's  at  stake, 
We'll  fight  for  each,  for  each  one's  sake. 
A  brother  dies  a  glorious  death — 
In  battle  he  resigns  his  breath; 
His  boon  is  heaven,  his  soul  is  blest. 
An  honest-hearted  sailor's  rest. 
We'll  fight  for  beauty  in  distress, 
For  Fame,  for  Freedom,  happiness  ; 
And  all  the  blessings  which  await 
The  brave,  the  bold,  the  sailor's  fate. 
Brave  tars,  who  fear  not  death  or  maim, 
Dare  fan  the  spark  of  Freedom's  flame, 
Hurl  every  tyrant  to  the  ground, 
And  all  their  cursed  plans  confound  ; 
No  sailor's  self,  or  sailor's  friend, 
But  we  will  die  or  else  defend  ; 
For  the  distressed  we  will  light, 
Whoe'er  they  be,  if  they  are  right — 
But  still  our  greatest  care  shallbe, 
The  honor  of  Columbia  ! 


IMMORTALITY. 

Hail,  Immortality  !  divine  resort 

Of  souls  immortal — of  infinite  thought ; 

What  do  those  boundless  wishes  else  portend, 

Than  that  their  glorious  wonders  ne'er  can  end  ? 

O,  mystic  substance!  mystic'ly  combined, 

And  forming  thus  an  all-existing  mind. 

Of  sight  infinitude  can  well  explore, 

Feelings  eternity  can  scarce  mature: 

Conceptions  endless,  thoughts  beyond  the  stars, 

Defies  restraint,  and  every  effort  dares  ; 

No  force  can  curb,  no  time  or  space  confine, 

Its  rise,  its  progress,  and  its  end  divine. 

Hail,  Immortality  !  blest  of  the  sky  ! 

Naught  else  can  souls  eternal  satisfy  ! 


THE  VICTIM  OF  LOVE  AND  PHILOSOPHY. 

Cold  is  »he  heart  of  him  1  love, 

Flames  which  my  soul  invest 
Doth  torment  every  thought  of  mine, 

But  ne'er  doth  him  molest. 


109 

O!  son  of  stern  philosophy  ! 

Is  woman's  charms  so  mean  ? 
'Midst  all  the  beauties  thou  dost  scan, 

Is  nature's  first  unseen  ? 
Canst  thou  traverse  the  miry  walks 

Of  learning,  science,  art, 
And  in  a  poet's  numbers  dress, 

And  ne'er  read  woman's  heart? 
Is  all  her  life  a  blank  indeed, 

A  thing  not  worth  a  care  ? 
If  Eve  transgress'd,  I  never  will, 

But  will  be  ever  dear. 
Oh !  couldst  thou  know  my  heart,  and  feel 

Love's  soothing  ecstacy ! 
Those  pleasures  which  thy  time  employ, 

Thou  mightst  forsake  lor  me. 
But  ah  !  how  hapless  is  my  lot ! 

The  only  one  I  love 
Is  all  that  cannot  feel  my  power, 

And  this  my  death  doth  prove. 
Adieu  !  adieu  !  once  lovely  world- 
Adieu,  cold-hearted  swain  : 
This  dagger  proves  my  greatest  friend, 

And  thus  curtails  my  pain  ! 


HAIL  TO  THE  NINE. 

Hail  to  the  Nine  ! 

Who  o'er  Parnassus  reign, 
Give  ear  unto 

A  lover's  humble  strain. 
Attend  awhile, 

If  I,  thine  offspring,  say, 
If  not  convince, 

Thou  holy  throng,  1  pray. 
If  this  be  false, 

Whose  flames  enwrap  my  heart, 
Do  thou  convince, 

And  what  I  am  impart. 
This  mystic  fire, 

Which  from  my  birth  has  burn'd, 
Can  it  be  false  ? 

If  so,  'twas  nature  fann'd. 
And  am  I  thus 

By  nature  cursed  indeed? 
O!  cruel  matron  ! 

Why  couldst  thou  so  mislead ! 


110 

Those  chords  within 

My  ever  tuneful  breast, 
Are  then  unstrung — 

Or  falsely  strung  at  best ! 
And  have  I  sinn'd 

Against  the  sacred  pow'r, 
Unblam'd,unchid, 

Until  this  awful  hour  ! 
And  then  unchang'd, 

Though  penitent,  perhaps 
Contrition  such, 

But  leads  to  a  relapse. 
My  fate  is  fix'd  ; 

I  must  for  ever  be 
Immersed  in  crime, 

The  crime  of  Poetry. 


REFLECTIONS  AT  THE  CLOSE  OF  A  YEAR. 

The  sun,  as  usual,  is  set, 

And  in  due  time  comes  on 
The  lightsome  day  and  sable  night, 

But  man — -poor  man  was  born ! 
Those  changes  to  him  may  not  be, 

This  year  indeed's  his  own ; 
'Tis  past — but  dark  futurity 

Is  his  but  when  'tis  known. 
This  day  with  all  must  end  the  year ; 

Ah,  life,  alas !  with  some  : 
To-morrow's  sun  will  not  appear, 

To  thousands  will  not  come. 
This  day  an  emblem  of  man's  life, 

Man's  death  and  being  too  ; 
This  year  is  his — this  mould'ring  earth — 

The  next  is  out  of  view  ! 
Man  must  reflect  upon  the  past 

With  pleasure  or  with  pain, 
Still  hoping  to  amend  at  last, 

And  once  be  pure  again. 
O!  Man,  frail  creature  of  the  dust 

Why  sport  with  good  and  ill ; 
This  day  is  thine — but  soon  you  must 

Bow  unto  Death's  stern  will. 
Then  once  reflect  that  you  must  die, 

As  every  thing  doth  show, 
And  fit  yourselves  for  the  blest  sky 

By  doing  good  bekm. 


Ill 

VIRGINIA  MEDITATION. 

Hark !  hark  !     Old  Hickory  blows  his  horn 

Arouse,  ye  war-dogs,  to  the  chase ! 
Rush,  rush  to  arms,  all  danger  scorn  ! 

For  treason  shows  her  impious  face. 
Afar,  on  South  Carolina's  plain 

See  daring  Rebel  bands  parade  ; 
And  see,  far  off  beyond  the  Main, 

Ten  thousand  eager  foes  to  aid. 
We  cannot  brook  the  bloody  stain 

Upon  the  laurels  of  our  land ; 
One  word,  and  every  traitor's  slain, 

We  only  wait  our  Chief's  command. 
But  see !  the  brightened  heaven's  smile ! 

And  see  a  holy  maiden  come, 
An  emblem  of  some  blissful  Isle, 

Or  country  happy  as  our  own. 
'Tis  fair  Virginia's  spirit  bright, 

In  robes  of  patriotic  peace — 
Remove  those  weapons  from  her  sight, 

A  tear  rolls  down  her  lovely  face. 
She  sighs  to  see  the  tented  field 

Alive  with  thousands  for  the  fight, 
Not  to  compel  a  foe  to  yield, 

But  to  contest  a  Sister's  right. 
The  world  is  awed  !     See  far  around — 

The  brows  of  every  tyrant  fall — 
She  speaks  of  peace  !     O  heavenly  sound  ! 

The  Goddess  comes  unto  her  call. 
Discord,  abashed,  in  crimson  plumes, 

The  mark  of  many  a  nation's  grave 
Ascends — a  lowlier  mien  assumes, 

And  flies,  enraged,  beyond  the  wave. 
Each  Sister  clasps  her  Sister  dear, 

Each  brother  his,  each  in  his  turn, 
Perpetual  Liberty  draws  near ; 

Huzza,  our  Union  !  Washington  ! 


THE  YANKEE  TRAVELLER. 

A  Jonathan  once  journeyed  forth 
To  see  his  brothers  of  the  South— 
No  doubt,  on  some  gain-make  intent, 
But  soon  his  money  was  all  spent. 


112 

This  would  have  been  to  some  Old  Nick, 

But  Yankees  never  lack  a  trick, 

To  get  along  as  well  as  any, 

Though  thronged  with  difficulties  many. 

John's  horse  had  sense,  as  well  as  he, 

A  cunning  nag  as  any  be. 

John  did  kick  and  Tobe  did  trot, 

Till  both  had  very  hungry  got. 

And  night  drew  on,  and  both  were  tired, 

And  food  and  rest  they  both  required. 

A  friendly  sign  hung  o'er  the  way, 

Where  all  might  call  if  they  could  pay. 

John  gladly  lighted  at  the  door, 

The  servants  came — one,  two,  three,  four ; 

The  Landlord  smiled,  John  quick  in  went, 

And  Toby  to  the  barn  was  sent. 

One  ate,  contented  in  the  stall, 

And  'tother  in  the  tavern  hall ; 

Forgot  his  appetite  was  good, 

John  praised  the  neatness  of  the  food. 

And  many  a  witty  thing  was  said 

Before  he  quit  and  went  to  bed  : 

At  last  Tobe  and  his  master  lay 

In  sleep,  and  snored  the  hours  away, 

And  quickly  came  the  rosy  day. 
Each  quit  his  comfortable  bed, 
And  each  again  was  largely  fed. 
Tobe  at  the  door,  the  bill  was  brought, 

And  Landlord  had  the  cash— in  thought. 
The  bridle  in  the  hands  of  Dick— 
The  horse  begun  to  prance  and  kick. 
John  hollowed  wo  !  but  all  in  vain  : 
Dick  could  not  hold  the  bridle  rein. 
Off  galloped  Tobe— John  took  the  track 
With  all  the  waiters  at  his  back; 
And  long  they  ran — but  bear  in  mind- 
John  left  the  balance  far  behind. 
Now  most  of  people  in  John's  case 
Would  sore  have  rued  so  hard  a  race ; 
But  well  he  knew  the  horse  would  slack 
When  he  had  left  the  rest  at  back, 
And  so  he  did  when  out  of  view, 
And  John  into  the  saddle  flew. 
This  trick  was  well  it  might  be  said, 
And  many  a  such  has  Johnny  played. 
The  Landlord  e'en  his  case  did  pity, 
But,  not  unlucky,  John  was  witty ; 
So  witty  that  he  never  will 
Go  back  to  pay  the  tavern  bill. 


113 
VIEW  OF  THE  ANIMAL  HEART. 

O  human  nature !  think  not  I  despise 

When  I  can  see  another's  worth  than  thine; 
Yon  canine  gratitude  in  Justice's  eyes 

Unreasoned,  is  more  pure  than  yours  or  mine. 
His  zeal  to  him  which  his  Creator  seems 

Is  far  more  genuine  than  human  art ; 
Thy  life  is  worse,  like  his,  though  spent  in  dreams : 

Oh  man !    Thou  knowest  he  has  a  better  heart. 
Have  art  and  sin  contaminated  ?    Yes. 

Has  ill  unknown  to  those  who  know  not,  cursed,^ 
Man  think  !     With  all  thy  boasted  truth  confess 

Whether  thine  heart,  or  is  yon  DOG'S  the  worst. 
His  name  deserves  immortalizing  more 

Than  most  of  men  that  I  am  doomed  to  see ! 
Excuse  me  ye,  whose  days  are  not  past  o'er — 

Excuse  me,  liberal  posterity. 
I've  seen  man's  heart  as  well  as  man  can  see, 

Thou  old  or  young — thou  canst  not  well  deceive, 
No  better  heart  than  yonder  dog's  can  be, 

Though  God  ordains,  he  will  not  such  receive. 
Man  !  art  thou  wise,  and  know  of  gratitude  ? 

Art  thou  susceptible  of  honest  love  ? 
You  must  behold  with  pleasure  in  the  brute 

Such  things,  to  thee,  as  pave  thy  way  above. 

PEACE. 

Ah !  thou  panacea  of  all  wo, 

With  thee  1  mean  to  live  ; 
Fair  Virtue's  friend,  Ambition's  foe, 

My  wearied  form  receive. 
Too  long  I've  known  the  ills  which  tread 

In  noisy  fashion's  path  ; 
Let  me  a  moment  rest  my  head, 

And  let  the  giddy  laugh. 
I'm  sickened  at  yon  busy  scene 

Where  Peace  is  sought — and  spurned : 
My  heart  is  mad  with  strife  and  men, 

My  brain  with  discord  turned. 
But,  thou,  protector  of  the  wise 

From  life's  ten  thousand  ills, 
Whose  incense  reaches  to  the  skies, 

Whose  smile  yon  heaven  fills. 
Receive  me  to  thy  happy  realm, 

For  ever  guard  my  heart; 
L 


114 

When  misery  would  fain  o'erwhelm. 

O,  thou  thine  aid  impart ! 
Possessed  of  thee  no  other  bliss 

Else  will  I  ever  crave ; 
But  e'er  content  with  only  this 

Go  smiling  to  the  grave. 
Mankind  I  take  from  me  all  beside, 

You  can't  my  joy  decrease ; — 
Detest,  contemn,  scorn,  and  deride, 

But  give  me— give  me  Peace. 


OCTOBER. 

Sweet  month  of  the  Poet  why  so  swiftly  pass  ! 

Tis  sure  in  Virginia  thou  quickest  doth  flee ; 
Thy  pleasure-sped  moments  far  outgo  the  glass,, 

O  linger  awhile,  if  'tis  only  for  me ! 
For  soon  comes  December  (still  better  than  Spring) 

And  clothes  all  the  prospect  in  darkness  and  death; 
The  wind  seems  to  shudder  at  what  it  doth  bring — 

Despair  to  the  heart,  and  fell  ruin  to  the  earth. 
Yes,  Spring  clothed  in  blossoms  that  cheer  but  the  sight, 

They  please  us  a  moment  and  die  in  a  day  ; 
But  O,  sweet  October,  thou  givest  delight 

From  sky,  breeze,  and  prospect,  surpassing  the  May. 


THE  LOST  AT  SEA. 

0  Chesapeake  !  thou  noble  bay ! 
Could  my  first  song  of  thee 

Have  been  more  grand — of  sorrow  void — 
And  from  disaster  free. 

1  lately  viewed  thy  spacious  form, 
And  gazed  thy  beauties  o'er ; 

Enraptured  rowed  upon  thy  breast, 

And  wandered  on  thy  shore. 
Proud  of  a  region  which  could  boast 

Of  nature's  charms  so  great — 
As  placid  as  the  face  of  Spring, 

And  treacherous  as  fate. 
For  ere  three  suns  had  lit  the  sky 

Before  the  day  I  name, 
Thou  wast  convulsed  with  vengeful  wrath, 

And  proved  the  Seaman's  grave. 
As  late  I  wandered  o'er  the  beach 

I  saw  a  corpse  float  by, 


115 

Disgorged  by  the  ravenous  wave 

As  though  'twas  with  a  sigh  ! 
A  youth's  bold  ardor  had  inspired, 

The  busy  heart  now  stilled 
Might  once  have  tuned  the  soul  of  one 

With  every  virtue  filled : 
This  graceful  form  once— now  so  chaaged- 

By  kindred  oft  caressed, 
And  by  a  father  fondly  loved, 

And  by  a  mother  blest. 
Now  cold  in  death !     Far,  far  from  those 

Who  love  and  those  who  know ! 
Thy  end  unknown  must  e'er  remain 

To  add  another  wo  ! 
Fond  Mother !  where  thy  treasure  now 

That  thou  didst  dote  upon  ? 
Kind  Father  !  where  thy  darling  now, 

Thy  hope,  thy  joy,  thy  son  ? 
Sisters  !  ye,  too,  have  borne  a  loss ! 

Where  is  your  brother  gone  ? 
Far,  far,  across  the  Ocean  tide, 

O  never  to  return ! 
Cold,  cold  in  death— denied  a  grave 

The  last  want  of  mankind ; 
His  manes  lie  bleaching  on  the  shore, 

Or  scattered  in  the  wind! 
But  no  I— This  doom  I  will  forbid  ; 

A  stone  shall  mark  the  sod 
Where  the  young  stranger  lies  at  rest 

Beneath  the  mossy  clod. 
A  line  shall  tell  to  those  who  pass, 

The  end  of  him  here  laid  ; 
And  this  my  epitaph  shall  be, 

Though  simple,  and  though  sad  :— 
'  Beneath  this  turf  a  stranger  rests, 

Far  from  his  friends  and  kin  ; 
His  virtues  are  in  Heaven  known— 

Heaven-like—he  could  not  sin." 


VIRGINIA  HUNTER. 

Who  would  a  happier  home  desire 

Than  Old  Virginia's  fireside? 
She  yields  what  food  our  wants  require, 

And  what  more  should  we  want  beside ? 


116 

Here  peace  and  plenty  smile  around1. 

Our  fair  ones  none  can  e'er  surpass, 
All  nature's  blessings  much  abound, 

And  we  may  live  in  happiness. 
Nojking  can  riot  o'er  us  here, 

No  haughty  tyrant  us  oppress ; 
We  act  and  speak  without  a  fear, 

Because  we  liberty  possess. 
Rest,  rest  in  peace,  our  Fathers  dear, 

Who  all  these  blessings  to  us  brought 
We'll  see  that  these  our  children  share, 

Or  we  will  fight  as  they  have  fought. 
Success  to  every  true-born  heir 

Of  Old  Virginia's  name  and  joys, 
At  home  or  in  the  world  afar — 

Jn  peace  or  war  they  are  the  boys. 


IMPERTINENCE. 

Foe  unto  nature  and  all  common  sense, 

To  man  and  God  is  this  impertinence. 

O  keep  me— keep  me  from  these  madmen  fell. 

Who  know  to  shun  the  Bedlamitish  cell, 

And  know  no  more — but  to  torment  mankind, 

By  folly  blinded  and  to  reason  blind. 

Their  tongues  unbridled  as  their  ignorance, 

So  high  their  heads  !     Devoid  of  contents, 

With  gay  demeanor — fashionable  dress. 

With  new  made  oaths  and  other  common  stuff 

Which  fops  themselves  might  think  polite  enough. 

They  come  !     'Tis  then  you  have  to  suffer  all 

The  ills  which  sensibility  befall: 

Contrition,  pain,  despair,  and  melancholy — 

Better  be  foolish  than  to  suffer  folly. 

Then  come  those  questions  which  concern  nobody, 

The  reasonings  which  flow  from  wine  or  toddy. 

Those  ifs  and  ands  which  never  terminate, 

Those  naughts  and  nothings  of  which  blockheads  prate. 

Those  different  cognomens  of  wrong  and  right — 

Folly  of  fools  and  wiser  men's  delight. 

And  this  is  it  the  world  calls  common  sense? 

O  God  !  'tis  not.    It  is  impertinence. 

Defend  me,  heaven,  from  such  a  foe  to  peace  ! 

Wrap  me  in  armor— e'en  of  ignorance ! 

What  shall  I  do  ?    Which  way  turn  to  avoid 

These  worst  of  fiends  ?    O,  shall  I  be  destroyed  I 

Had  cane  or  pistol  ever  made  a  cure, 

These  I  would  try.    In  vain !    I  must  endure  I 


117 

Like  gray  hairs  of  a  venerable  head, 
Destroy  but  one  and  ten  comes  in  its  stead. 
Could  any  thing  within  my  power  prevail, 
That  would  I  do— but  all  attempts  would  fail , 
O  dreadful  fellows — those  impertinent ! 
'Twill  do  no  good— still  you  must  fret  and  fret. 
They'll  take  a  beating  sooner  than  a  hint, 
And  O  !  their  hearts  are  harder  than  a  flint. 
They'll  whistle,  hum,  or  sing  some  pretty  air, 
Gaze  in  your  face,  and  rock  you  in  your  chair. 
Take  leave  at  last.— Ah  that  is  somewhat  sane, 
But  ne'er  forget  to  tell  they'll  come  again! 
Horror  of  horrors  !  keep  me'from  this  gang, 
Or  I  go  mad,  or  shoot  myself,  or  hang. 
Have  I  a  friend?  O,  save  him  from  them,  fate ! 
A  foe  r— then  take  him,  and  remove  my  hate. 


FRESCO  AND  UTINA— A  TALE 

The  eve  was  fair  and  all  around 
Was  pleasing  as  to  sight  and  sound. 

The  sun  in  beauty  shone. 
Good  Hod,  the  Farmer,  had  walked  out 
Along  the  winding  river's  route  ; 

Nor  was  he  all  alone. 
His  wife,  his  friend,  his  joy,  his  pride, 
Was  with  him  walking  at  his  side  ; 

And  Ponto  ran  before. 
In  busy  chat  they  thus  went  on 
Until  an  infant's  wail  forlorn 

Was  echoed  on  the  shore. 
Hist  Mary  !     What  is  that  I  hear ! 
Some  infant  in  distress  1  fear ! 

O,  where  can  it  be  found  !" 
About  they  cast  their  eager  eyes 
But  naught  was  seen — to  their  surprise — 

They  still  could  hear  the  sound. 
When  lo  !  around  a  jetting  wood 
A  cradle  on  the  angry  flood, 

Their  situation  nears ; 
And  in  the  same  with  up-stretched  arms — 
And,  trembling,  crying  its  alarms  I 

A  helpless  babe  appears ! 
O,  Mary,  what  shall  now  be  done  ! 
My  dear,  you  for  assistance  run 

Or  else  the  child  is  lost. 


118 

For  see,  the  waves  half  o'er  it  cast, 
And  the  frail  barsfilling  fast  ; 

And  Oh!  how  it  is  tost !" 
Yes,  yes !  'tis  lost !— what  shall  we  do : 
Ah ! — Ponto — ever  to  me  true: 

My  grief  is  half-way  eased  ! 
See  him  the  angry  waters  brave  ! 
Ah  !  he  will  die  or  he  will  save — 

The  cradle  he  has  seized ! 
See  wife !  he  struggles  for  the  shore — 
Sweet  Ponto  \  summon  all  thy  power, 

Thou  e'er  shalt  share  my  joy ! 
Thrice  happy  am  I,  my  dear  wife, 
The  happiest  period  of  my  life 

Is  now,  we've  saved  the  boy  ! 
Now  little  trembler  !  one  sweet  kiss  ! 
It  smiles  !  O  'twas  the  pearl  of  bliss  ! 

That  well  rewards  my  cares. 
Thrice  welcome  to  my  humble  home> 
And  all  I  have  till  others  come 

And  prove  thee  to  be  theirs." 
Hod  spoke  the  dictates  of  a  heart 
Which  joy  felt  but  to  impart — 

His  wife  the  same  as  he. 
They  lived  contented  and  unknown, 
Were  rich  in  peace— to  virtue  prone— 

IN  o  children  yet  had  they. 
With  angel  care  they  nursed  the  child 
O'erjoyed.    Yet,  when  they  on  it  smiled, 

A  secret  fear  would  grieve. 
That  its  lost  friends,  if  friends  it  had, 
Though  much  they  wished,  might  claim  the  lacL 

And  thus  themselves  bereave. 
Sometimes,  by  superstition  fired, 
The  neighboring  gossips,  self-inspired, 

With  super-human  eyes. 
They  saw  in  all  its  history, 
A  dark,  unmeaning  mystery 

Pertaining  to  the  skies. 
Nor  seemed  their  tale  belied  by  truth, 
When  he  in  all  the  pride  of  youth  ; 

Young  Fresco  grew  to  man  : 
Beloved  by  old  and  young  around, 
Nor  was  a  maiden  to  be  found 

But  sighed  his  love  to  gain. 
But  still  his  heart  was  free  as  air, 
Until  Utina,  she  the  fair, 

Was  seen,  and  therefore  loved. 


119 

Both  formed  in  virtue's  purest  mould  ; 
Such  hearts  to  love,  what  can  withhold 

Their  mutual  flame  approved  ? 
Amidst  their  bliss  of  passion  pure, 
War's  startling  thunders  round  them  roar 

Ere  they  in  wedlock  are — 
E'en  love  itself  can't  him  restrain, 
And  duty  calls  him  to  the  plain, 

The  bloody  strife  to  share. 
Reluctant  yet  his  love  to  leave, 
He  stays  awhile  her  loss  to  grieve, 

Then  rushes  to  the  field, 
Where  death  in  every  form  appears, 
To  chill  the  heart  or  wake  the  fears- 
Fresco  knew  not  to  yield. 
In  many  a  bloody  battle  he, 
Unhurt,  displayed  his  bravery, 

Until  that  dreadful  day— 
Long  Island's  memorable  shore 
With  warring  hosts  was  covered  o'er, 

And  thousands  gasping  lay. 
Brave,  yet  imprudently,  he  fought— 
The  thickest  throng  of  foes  he  sought, 

And  laid  full  many  low  : 
As  if  protected  by  a  power— 
A  hand  unseen,  for  many  an  hour 

He  galled  the  stubborn  foe. 
At  last,  the  charm  that  seemed  to  shield 
From  him  the  dangers  of  the  field, 

For  one  short  moment  sped : 
One  flash  of  light—"  Utina!"— then, 
One  shriek  of  anguish,  less  of  pain, 

He  fell  among  the  dead  ! 
But  still  a  guardian  strength  watched  o'er 
And  saved  him,  as  it  had  before — 

He  breathed,  and  that  was  all : 
Silas,  his  ancient  rival,  saw 
(His  foe  in  love,  and  type  in  war) 

With  pleasure  Fresco  fall. 
Soon  as  the  trump  of  flight  was  blown, 
And  freedom's  heroes  all  o'erthrown, 

With  speed  young  Silas  flew 
Unto  Utina,  far  away, 
And  told  the  history  of  the  day— 

Of  Fresco  all  he  knew. 
He  his  once  hopeless  suit  renewed — 
Not  in  unpleasing  terms,  nor  rude, 

But  with  a  magic  tongue  : 


120 

No  wonder,  then,  with  mis'ry  cross'd, 
And  grief  of  him,  so  lately  lo'st, 

Her  slow  consent  was  wrung. 
Meantime,  brave  Fresco,  pris'ner  made. 
His  liberty  and  peace  delayed. 

Was  brooding  o'er  his  fate — 
No  thought  of  ills  but  those  endured, 
Nor  others  harder  to  be  cured, 

Bad  seemed  enough  his  state. 
His  heavy  chains,  his  loathsome  food, 
Painful  his  task  of  solitude, 

Well  might  he  be  oppress'd  ; 
But  hope  and  fortitude  endure, 
What  time  and  patience  but  can  cure. 

And  succour  the  distressed. 
At  last,  the  voice  of  liberty 
And  stern  permission  to  be  free, 

Are  sounded  in  his  ears  : 
He  lays  his  cursed  chains  aside, 
And,  starting  up  in  freedom's  pride. 

Half  mad  with  joy  appears. 
And,  like  young  eagle  bounding  forth, 
In  all  the  hope  and  fire  of  youth, 

Impatient  of  delay, 
He  sought  unweariedly  the  scene 
Where  once  so  happy  he  had  been 

In  love's  enraptured  sway. 
Of  any  thing  but  bliss  no  thought — 
His  late  misfortunes  counted  naught, 

By  pain  nor  fear  harassed ; 
Though,  first,  his  parents  claimed  his  care, 
He  thought  an  hour  to  see  his  fair, 

And  reached  her  home  at  last. 
Long  rows  of  coaches  lined  the  park, 
And  lights  shot  gleaming  through  the  daik- 

Was  this  a  time  for  doubt  ? — 
Poor  Fresco  struggled  through  the  crowd. 
Which  all  in  silence  gazing  stood, 

Within  doors  and  without. 
Ve  by  imagination  freed, 
And  dead  to  fancy,  cease  to  read, 

And  all  the  senseless  tribe— 
What  Fresco  came  to  undergo 
I  leave  to  fancy  and  to  wo, 

And  others  to  describe. 
When  he  with  bloodshot  eye  surveyed 
Silas  and  his  inconstant  maid 

Before  the  Vicar  stand, 


121 

One  glance,  and  Fresco  knew  no  more— 
But  instinct  led  him  from  the  door 

And  from  his  native  laud. 
He  strove  his  thoughts  to  leave  behind, 
But  those  seemed  wafted  by  the  wind 

Which  bore  him  o'er  the  sea  : 
Da}',  as  the  dreary  night,  did  seem 
A  hopeless,  never-waking  dream — 

A  dream  of  misery  ! 
To  see  the  noble  youth  constrained 
To  taste  of  sorrow,  true  or  feigned, 

Which  is  assigned  to  wo, 
Must  pity  him,  ye  giddy  crew, 
And  all  who  mis'ry  ever  knew, 

And  e'en  man's  greatest  foe. 
That  form,  majestic  as  a  king, 
That  brow,  unclouded  as  the  ring 

Which  binds  the  Summer's  sun, 
Is  now— O  !  what  a  contrast  now  !— 
That  graceful  form  and  smiling  brow 

No  longer  is  the  same  ! 
Yon  pale,  attenuated  one, 
Thoughtful,  beside  the  rocking  stern, 

Is  he  the  noble  youth  ? — 
A  shadow,  without  hope  or  fear, 
Within  India's  savage  sphere, 

Beyond  consoling  truth ! 
But  pain,  like  pleasure,  e'er  is  found 
Capricious,  inconstant,  unbound, 

Ungained,  to  all  still  free  ; 
They  by  each  other's  aid  exist, 
Where  one  is  wanting,  both  are  miss'd— 

Assisting  mutually. 
JNew  prospects  to  poor  Fresco  rise, 
Which  he  beholds  with  joyous  eyes— 

His  day  of  peace  is  come  : 
A  letter,  from  a  well-known  hand, 
Had  found  him  in  this  distant  land, 

And  caused  him  to  haste  home. 
Utina,  on  that  fatal  night 
Which  robbed  her  Fresco  of  delight, 

Had  seen  and  knew  he  lived — 
Her  vows  were  cancelled  long  ago 
From  him  who  had  deceived  her  so— 

And  bitterly  she  grieved. 
INow  see  this  happy,  happy  pair, 
Ye  virtuous,  and  ne'er  despair, 

When  found  in  wisdom's  road  5 


122 

The  good,  indeed,  are  often  sad, 
But  never  suffer  like  the  bad, 

Because  their  friend  is  God. 
And  other  joys  on  him  await, 
To  bless  anew  his  happy  state, 

For  parents  he  did  find  ; 
Though  they  more  tender  scarce  could  be 
Than  those  who  nursed  his  infancy, 

They  still  could  be  more  kind. 
Affluent,  childless,  but  for  him, 
INo  kindred  else  from  them  to  claim 

Long-nurtured  tenderness : 
Ah  !  may  the  virtuous  ever  be 
Half-happy  as  this  famity, 

Delivered  from  distress. 
Still,  'tis  the  poet's  to  explain 
Some  mysteries  which  yet  remain 

Connected  with  his  tale : 
A  lazy  nurse  young  Fresco  cast 
Into  the  stream,  as  by  she  past, 

Not  wishing  it  to  kill ; 
And  cunningly  put  in  its  stead 
One  like  the  same,  but  lately  dead, 

And  thus  its  friends  deceived  ; 
Nor  knew  they  better  till  the  maid 
Was  hopeless  on  her  death-bed  laid — 

And  thus  the  truth  revealed. 


HAPPINESS. 

Oh,  Happiness  !  O  heaven-born  Saint! 

Whom  none  but  madmen  e'er  could  paint- 

Whom  none  but  madmen  wish  to  see — 

Who  none  but  madmen  hope  to  be, — 

O  shadow  of  the  poet's  mind, 

To  me,  for  me  this  truth  O  blind  ! 

Oh,  madness,  take  me  to  thyself, 

And  let  me  hope  for  happiness  ! 

Fond  nature,  guide  me  once  again, 

And  learn  me  think  as  other  men  ; 

Teach  me  to  live  in  hope  of  naught, 

As  thou  hast  thousands  ever  taught ; 

Teach  me  to  fear  no  other  wo 

Than  that  the  truth  1  once  may  know,— 

Then,  O  then,  shall  I  know  bliss 

And  sublunary  happiness. 


123 


A  FRAGMENT. 

Among  the  sons  of  men  that  candid  are, 

To  tell  their  history,  and  without  reserve, 

John  Portsa  is,  who  now,  in  formal  verse, 

Does  to  the  world  bis  various  fortunes  show, 

His  travels  and  his  'hidings,  and  himself, — 

Thus  while  he  paints,  may  he  not  model  yours  ? 

His  is  your  nature,  but  he  hopes  your  fates 

Have  been  unlike  his  own  in  many  parts, 

And  like  his  too.— Though  floated  by  the  wave 

On  which  our  lives  are  cast,  he  has  enjoyed 

Some  precious  moments,  stationed  here  and  there, 

To  pay  misfortune  for  a  little  ease. 

You  ride  the  billow,  at  each  roll  which  threats 

To  drown  you  in  the  certain  end  of  all ; 

On  this  account  despair  not,  nor  too  much  hope, 

For  impossibilities  still  will  be. 

And  why  despair,  when  Providence  around 

Displays  its  power  and  its  will  to  serve  ? 

On  Age's  sea,  that  less  tempestuous  is, 

I  am  arrived,  more  certain  to  o'erwhelm ; 

And,  viewing  all  the  voyage  of  the  past, 

At  one  glance,  I  can  sum  up  the  amount, 

And  paint  the  colouring,  not  with  Guido's  skill, 

But  with  the  art  of  not  the  meanest  dunce 

That  shows  in  actions,  not  in  words  his  acts. 

How  proud  to  boast  Columbia  gave  me  birth — 

The  happy  soil  a  Washington  that  bore  ! — 

Thanks  to  my  fathers  for  their  coming  here, 

Thanks  to  the  land  that  yielded  such  a  race 

As  that  which  awed  the  threat'ning  tyrants'  power, 

And  faced  their  thunders  to  support  our  rights. 

How  proud  to  boast  Virginia  is  my  home, 

The  spot  so  blessed  that  gave  John  Portsa  life — 

The  kind  old  Virgin  of  a  potent  land, 

That  nursed  her  Sisters  with  a  parent's  care, 

Until  in  all  their  grace  they  shine  sublime, 

The  lovely  family  of  the  Western  'sphere. 

How  often  in  Europa's  savage  states, 

When  violence  was  menaced  by  the  boor, 

Thy  name,  Columbia,  has  rescued  from  harm, 

And  spread  a  supper  for  thy  hungry  son ! 

The  cautious  youths,  in  eager  glances,  mark 

My  foreign  face,  and  hinted  by  their  sire 

From  whence  I  came ; — with  rival  kindness  strive 

To  please  the  wand'rer  of  Virginia's  clime, 

And  take  delight  in  whispering  in  their  hearts, 

With  looks  intent, "  He  breathes  the  air  of  freedom. 


124 

Their  fancies  are  expanded  while  they  gaze. 

Their  prepossession  flatters  something  more 

Exalted  in  the  stranger's  looks — and  marked 

With  some  expression  of  his  happy  home, 

Their  souls  take  fire — impatient  they  to  taste 

The  many  blessings  that  in  freedom  are. 

The  lasses  put  on  all  their  mystic  charms 

To  catch  the  notice  of  their  honoured  guest; 

And.  if  one  smile  play  round  the  traveller's  face, 

Each  claims  the  honour  that  she  is  the  cause — 

And  ne'er  forget,  but  talk  with  fresh  delight 

Of  each  transaction  of  that  novel  night. 

Long  live  our  Union — ever-happy  states — 

Long  live  the  temple  sacred  to  the  Muse ; 

On  her  loved  altar  have  1  offered  up, 

As  sacrifice,  a  portion  of  my  blood  ; 

And  should  it  be  to  raise  her  glory  more, 

What  now  remains  would  I  as  freely  give. 

Could  years  of  future  life,  to  me  ordained, 

Produce  the  birth  of  one  more  patriotic 

Unto  her  glory,  would  I  give  life  up, 

And  leave  a  vacancy  for  one  more  blest. 

I've  passed  through  many  scenes,  and  know  them  a1!- 

Though  from  experience  of  a  thousand  lives, 

Man  would  return,  and  be  as  erring  still. 

You  see  the  course  from  me  you  should  pursue 

To  reap  the  blessings  that  have  been  to  me, 

And  the  best  way  to  shun  the  dreaded  ill. 


WISDOM,  WITH  AND  WITHOUT  GENIUS. 

Two  kinds  of  sapience  there  are — 

One  smooth,  irradiated,  fair, 

Like  meadow-stream,  scarce  murmuring  runs, 

That  well  the  drought  and  freshet  shuns  ; 

The  other  kind  inconstant,  slow, 

(Sometimes  the  screen  of  ignorance,  though;) 

'Twould  like  the  headlong  torrent  roar, 

That  seeks  its  grare  on  ocean's  shore — 

Unhelped  by  genius,  though  it  rage, 

Its  force,  if  force,  it  will  assuage. 

Like  child,  unguarded,  on  the  brink 

Of  some  dark  pool  or  murky  sink, 

Should,  heedless,  it  essay  to  climb 

Above  the  false  and  treacherous  slime, 

Perchance  its  balance  shall  be  lost, 

And  in  the  filthy  stream  he's  tost. 


125 

PLEASURES  OF  THE  HUSBANDMAN. 

The  man  in-doors,  with  books  pent  up, 

Tastes  but  the  gall  of  Wisdom's  cup  ; 

He  sees  with  others'  eyes  the  bliss, 

Which,  seeing,  never  can  be  his  ; — 

Scarce  knows  the  Seasons,  that  they  change. 

And  half  the  joys  that  with  them  range. 

But  he  with  gladness  who  walks  forth. 

When  Sol  has  lit  his  native  South, 

Marks  every  change  with  joyous  eye, 

In  hill,  in  valley,  and  in  sky  : 

In  emulation  sees  each  bud 

Put  forth  its  kind  to  greet  its  God. 

Each  herb,  each  sprig,  each  tree,  each  bough, 

Beholds  in  vernal,  verdant  show  ; 

Marks  all  the  prospect  with  delight. 

And  lays  up  musings  for  the  night. 

These  are  the  joys  of  home  and  ease, 

The  sweets  of  all  the  Farmer's  peace. 


RAGHWA    TO    SEETA. 

FROM  A  HINDOO  POEM. 

Son  of  the  venerable  parent,  hear  : 

'Tis  Seeta  speaks— attentive  turn  thy  ear. 

Well  art  thou  not  assured  and  resigned 

To  each,  as  virtue,  is  his  lot  assigned? 

And  that  a  wife  a  husband's  portion  shares 

Dividing  all  his  peace  and  all  his  cares  ? 

Therefore,  with  thee,  a  mutual  lot  I  claim 

To  share  all  good  and  ill,  all  praise  and  shame. 

.Not  in  the  smile  is  found  a  woman's  bliss, 

Of  father,  mother,  friend,  nor  in  herself;— 

Her  husband  is  her  only  portion  here  : 

If  thou  depart  into  the  forest  drear, 

Where  danger  and  distress  limp  through  the  day, 

I  will  precede  and  smooth  the  thorny  way— 

Unblamed  and  unforbidden  let  me  stray. 

0  chide  me  not ;  for  where  the  husband  is, 
In  house,  in  forest,  earthly  pain  or  bliss — 
Within  the  palace,  on  the  car  of  state, 

Or  in  condition  low— his  be  my  fate. 
My  mother  and  my  father  left  by  me, 

1  have  no  dwelling-place  distinct  from  thee. 
Forbid  me  not ;  for  in  the  wilderness, 
Hostile  to  man — surrounded  by  distress 
And  savageness — with  thee  I'll  surely  dwell, 
And  feel  as  in  a  palace,  ever  well. 

M 


126 

This  dreary,  horrid  waste  shall  ever  be 

Sweet  as  my  father's  stately  house  to  me,— 

And  all  the  noise  of  happiness  or  wo 

Shall  not  deface  the  kindness  which  I  owe 

To  thee  and  all  thy  moments,  good  or  bad. 

Elate  with  joy,  or  quite  dejected,  sad. 

I  will  not  burden  thee.— Refuse  me  not— 

Be  thine,  also,  my  constant,  self-same  lot ; 

But  shouldst  thou,  dear  Raghwa,  this  prayer  deny- 

If  torn  from  thee,  know  I  resolve  to  die. 


THE  SAILOR  REPENTANT. 

When  first  of  Ocean's  thrilling  joy 

I  heard  the  seamen  tell, 
1  longed,  though  bui  a  little  boy, 

On  the  dark  surge  to  dwell. 
But,  ah  !  that  day  that  I  left  home 

To  try  the  dangerous  sea— 
O  !  had  that  day  have  never  come — 

Had  never  come  to  me  ! 
To  be  for  ever  tost  and  thrown 

All  by  the  merciless  wave, 
And  unto  unknown  regions  blown— 

Perhaps  to  find  a  grave ! 
From  friends  and  kindred  far  away. 

Dejected,  sick,  and  sad,— 
No  heart  to  mourn,  no  heart  to  pray 

The  hapless  sailor  Jad ! 
Enduring  hunger,  wet,  and  cold, 

For  pleasure  and  for  gain, — 
Take  ye  the  pleasure  and  the  gold 

Who  won't  at  home  remain. 
For,  now,  I'm  safe  at  fireside, 

My  wandering  all  o'er : 
Contented,  seated  with  my  bride. 

I'll  go  to  sea  no  more. 


A  FRIEND. 

How  pleasant  'tis  to  have  a  friend, 
Sedate,  mild,  faithful,  and  discreet,— 

To  chide  when  wrong,  when  right  commend. 
To  feel  as  we,— O !  it  is  sweet ! 

Be  him  but  true,  with  many  faults- 
Still  all  his  faults  we  must  excuse : 


127 

Forgiveness,  friendship's  worth  exalts,— 

Condemn — we  gain  not,  but  we  lose. 
The  man  who  would  a  friend  betray, 

And  place  him,  himself,  in  others'  power. 
Should  still  live  on,  from  day  to  day, 

Without  a  friend  from  hour  to  hour. 
That  be  his  curse.— Oh,  what  a  state 

To  have  a  faithless  friend  or  none  ! 
'Tis  then  a  man  may  live  too  late, 

And  be,  alas  !  indeed  undone ! 
But  they  who  walk  in  wisdom's  way, 

As  men  and  friends,  each  to  assist, 
May  well  on  death  look  with  dismay, 

And  wish  for  ever  to  exist ! 


THE  LESSER  CRITICS— A  TALE. 
Believe  not  those  who  highest  raise 
Tiie  day-existing  song  of  praise, — 
Were  they  on  :tother  side,  be  sure 
They  would  abuse  as  much  or  more. 
Thou  sage  critic,  incline  thine  ear, 
(At  once  the  scribbler's  friend  and  fear:) 
Perchance  thou'st  criticised  poor  me, 
And  now  I'll  criticise  poor  thee. 
Did  ever  you,  for  mischiefs  love, 
An  empty  drumhead's  noise  approve  ? 
Did  ever  you,  for  fashion's  sake 
And  love  of  gain — all  truth  at  stake — 
Praise  things  no  better  than  you  write, 
And  say  they  were  the  perfect  quite? 
Have  ymi  done  this,  my  quill-highness?— 
Well,  then,  you  know  whom  I  address. 
Be  not  intentionally  blind- 
Men  may  have  eyes  without  a  mind. 
An  animal  there  once  did  live — 
Enough — useless  his  name  to  give  : 
Yet,  hold  !  this  much  might  well  be  said, 
That  he  was  not  a  quadruped. 
"  Indeed ! — Why  what  then  could  he  be  J 
A  toad  ?" — No ;  wait,  and  you  shall  see. 
This  beast  so  ugly  was  inclined 
That  he  was  shunned  by  bestial  kind, — 
Detestable  to  all  that  knew, 
And  scoffed  by  all  who  chanced  to  view. 
Long  thus  his  race  the  biped  ran, 
Unowned  by  any  breathing  clan; 
The  goat  e'en  mocked  so  low  a  brute. 
And  every  donkey  followed  suit. 


128 

Our  hero  galled  to  madness  quite, 

Against  the  Ass  turned  all  his  spite— 

And  strove  to  show  by  every  shift 

That  he  was  ugly  as  himself. 

But  none  regarded,  none  believed, 

And  much  more  sorely  was  he  grieved  : 

Some  who,  before,  thought  Jack  a  fright, 

Believed  him  now  a  pleasant  sight— 

And  made  pur  hero's  spite  all  vain, 

Or  turned  it  on  himself  again. 

He  found  this  plan  would  never  do, 

And  sought  another  to  pursue. 

Saw  this  scheme  take  with  happiness, 

Astonished  at  his  own  success  : 

No  more  derided  the  poor  Ass, 

But  let  his  imperfections  pass. 

Praised  now  where  once  he  used  to  jeer — 

His  modest  look,  his  comely  ear : 

Praised  every  failing  for  a  beauty, 

And  every  body  thought  Jack  pretty. 

And  his  own  beauty,  too,  was  seen, 

And  all  forgot  what  he  had  been ; 

All  praised  our  worthies  well,  they  say, 

And  Jack  and  him  both  had  their  day. 


PLEASURES  OF  THE  MORNING, 

Sweet  breath  of  the  morning, 

How  cheering  thou  art — 
Sweet  scenes  of  the  dawning, 

Ye  pleasures  impart ! 
Sweet  thoughts  of  the  young  day, 

How  joyous  and  pure — 
Sweet  beams  of  the  first  rayr 

Ye  charm  evermore ! 
Sweet  hopes,  that  attend  now 

Each  throb  of  the  heart, 
O  never — O  will  ye  !  how 

Can  ye  depart ! 


A  VIRGINIA  BARBECUE. 

Ye  who  love  good  eating,  just  go  to  a  'Cue— 
Ye'll  find  and  enjoy  it  there,  I  warrant  you. 
W  ho  ever  went  there  and  ne'er  got  enough  ? 
Who  ever  went  there  and  found  the  meat  tough  ? 
Who  ever  went  there  and  came  mad  away  ? 
Who  ever  went  there,  and  kept  steady  ail  day? 


129 

Who  ever  went  there,  discontent  er  distrest — 
Who  ever  went  there  with  sorrow  opprest— ^ 
Who  ever  went  there  deep  in  love  or  in  grief, 
And  did  not  immediately  find  some  relief? 
Eujoyrnent  here  presides  as  the  host, 
And  he  who's  least  welcome  is  welcome  the  most. 
Freedom  and  Frolic  here  hold  their  domain, 
And  good  sense  and  wit  all  folly  restrain  : 
Here,  age  may  be  youth  and  live  o'er  its  days, 
Here,  virtue  is  honored  and  wisdom  finds  praise, 
Here,  wealth  and  poverty,  meekness  and  pride, 
Commingle  in  one  and  sit  side  and  side. 
Formality  here,  and  modish  nonsense- 
Is  held  in  contempt,  and  banished  hence  ; 
Contention  and  strife  must  here  have  an  end 
While  each  is  a  neighbor  and  each  is  a  friend. 
Republican  plainness  and  candor  preside, 
And  all  kind  of  precedence  here  is  denied. 
Here  sweethearts  are  toasted  and  sweet  wives  are  lord  ; 
Virtue  commended  and  vice  is  reproved. 
Ye  ball-room  revels  and  parties  of  Lou, 
Give  me  the  Barbecue— Devil  take  you. 


THE  DRUM. 

Let  others  talk  of  quivering  strings, 

Of  sounding-boards  and  such  low  things  ; 

Of  all  their  soothing  harmony  — 

But  still  the  thundering  Drum  for  me. 


As  peal  on  peal  it  echoes  round 
Thrills  through  the  heart  and  forces  hence 

All  but  its  ecstacy  of  sound. 
And  oft  and  pleasing  too  the  fife, 

Breaks  on  the  ear  discordantly, 
Reminding  us  of  some  bold  strife 

Of  ancestors  for  liberty. 
Come,  jolly  hearts,  with  me  approve, 

The  waking  rattlings  of  the  Drum  ; 
And  soldiers,  all,  who  fighting  love, 

Join  in  its  praise  sincerely  —  come. 
Let  others  talk  of  quivering  strings, 
Of  sounding-boards  and  such  low  things  ; 
Of  all  their  soothing  harmony  — 
J3ut  still  the  thundering  Drum  for  me, 


130 

THE  HOUR  AT  EVE. 

When  silent  eve  puts  on  her  dusky  garb, 

And  murmurs  rock  the  watchful  soul  to  rest ; 
How  soothing  'tis,  experiencing  alone 

The  placid  joy  which  lingers  at  the  breast ! 
The  sleepy  sawyer,  or  the  cheerful  crick— 

The  beetle  humming  through  his  drowsy  flight  — 
The  stars  that  glance  upon  the  falling  sun- 
To  contemplation  all — to  rest  invite. — 
Ah,  happy  he,  divested  of  all  crime 

That  rends  the  wounded  heart  with  vengeful  ire  , 
Who  may  enjoy  this  retributive  hour— 

At  peace  with  all,  unto  his  couch  retire. 
But  ah !  the  wretch  whom  conscience  doth  accuse. 

With  acts  committed  by  the  solar  light, 
Seeks  rest  in  vain — in  vain  from  torment  flies — 

His  deeds  show  plainest  in  the  darkest  night. 
For  me,  as  now,  when  life  itself  shall  wane 

And  all  the  evening  of  my  days  come  on  ; 
May  I,  contented,  lay  me  down  to  sleep, 

And  ne'er  repent  that  ever  I  was  born. 


A  GANDER  PULL!!! 

You've  heard  of  cock-fights — baits  of  bull — 

Did  you  ever,  of  a  Gander  pull  ? 

If  you  havn't,  I  have,  so  I'll  tell, 

And  mind  you  understand  me  well. 

A  pole  is  cut,  tall,  limber,  sound— 

And  one  end  fastened  to  the  ground  ; — 

A  fork  about  the  middle's  placed, 

And  '(other  end  is  upwards  raised. 

A  rope  from  upper  end's  let  loose 

And  holds  the  legs  of  gander  or  goose, 

Whose  neck  is  of  its  plumes  released, 

And  then  made  slick  by  being  greased. 

One  on  each  side,  with  whip  in  hand, 

To  urge  the  horses,  takes  his  stand — 

And  DOW  all  preparation's  done, 

Each  rider  mounts — and  now  the  fun  ! 

Bestride  on  horse,  or  mule,  or  ass, 

Each  round  the  circle  swift  doth  pass. 

And  as  each  comes  by  the  goose  quite, 

Gives  her  a  pull  with" all  his  might  ; 

Who  straight  doth  squall,  but  squalls  not  long, 

For  death  soon  interrupts  her  song. 


131 

And  now  the  crowd,  full  of  delight, 

Gaze  on  enraptured  at  the  sight ; 

And  in  each  changing  of  the  game 

Join  in  the  laugh  and  loud  acclaim. 

Here  comes  a  whiskered  son  of  man, 

The  foremost  of  the  hopeful  clan, 

Who  gives  a  pull  both  hard  and  long, 

That  head  must  come  were  neck  not  strong. 

His  knees  rise  o'er  his  donkey's  mane, 

And  neck  as  arched  as  a  crane ; 

His  stirrups  short,  his  heels  appear 

Far  out  behind  his  horse's  rear. 

With  six-inch  spurs  he  is  supplied, 

But  can't  for  life,  touch  horse's  side. 

]\ext  rides  a  youth,  with  no  less  grace, 

With  sanguine  hope  marked  in  his  face— 

A  mouth  that  might  tempt  fair  one's  kisses— 

So  eager,  lo !  the  head  he  misses, 

And  passes  on— and  close  beside 

Comes  something  like  a  man  astride. 

At  this  unlucky  time,  alas  ! 

The  goose  doth  squall— the  horse  won't  pass- 

And  whip,  and  spur,  and  cane,  and  curse, 

But  tend  to  make  the  matter  worse, 

For  backward,  like  a  crab  he  goes, 

His  rump  where  ought  to  be  his  nose. 

Next  comes  a  Yonker  on  a  mule. 

His  beast,  by  much,  the  lesser  fool, 

With  pendent  ears  and  meekest  face 

That  well  attest  his  honored  race. 

His  gait  is  borrowed  from  the  snail, 

And  nothing  moves  him  but  a  frail. 

The  knowing  ones  back  well  his  rider, 

Whose  face  is  marked  with  grog  or  cider ; 

Whose  heaving  chest  is  full  and  wide, 

And  well  his  brawny  arm  was  tried. 

His  hair  hung  flowing  o'er  his  face, 

His  nose  was  in  the  proper  place — 

His  head  too  was  on  nature's  plan, 

Upon  the  shoulders  of  a  man. 

And  round  and  round  they  move  amain, 

And  pull  and  pull,  but  all  in  vain. 

(A  head  of  twenty  summers'  growth 

To  leave  its  parent  stock  is  loth.) 

While  some  were  landed  in  the  dirt, 

Some  tore  a  coat  and  some  a  shirt ; 

And  once  our  friend  of  the  long  hair 

Had  been  suspended  in  the  air 

Before  the  manly  sport  was  done— 

Before  the  prize  was  lost  and  woo. 


13£ 

At  last  a  water-jointed  fellow, 
With  countenance  savage,  meagre,  sallow. 
Having  slyly  roughed  his  soapy  hand 
By  rubbing  thoroughly  with  sand, 
Stretching  as  thin  as  any  slab— 
Reached  up  and  gave  the  head  a  grab, 
And  bore  it  down  upon  his  hip 
With  claws  of  a  most  giant  grip — 
With  clenched  teeth  and  glaring  eyes 
He  bore  away  the  bleeding  prize. 
The  earth  did  tremble  with  the  shout, 
And  thunders  seemed  to  burst  about. 
Huzza  !"  was  heard  on  every  side, 
And  rode  the  victor  in  his  pride. 
Ye  that  have  witnessed  no  such  scene 
Have  not  been  blessed  as  I  have  been  : 
And  should  you  hear  of  one  about 
You'll  go  and  see — yourself — no  doubt. 
Good-night  unto  you  old  and  young, 
Just  read  the  song  which  I  have  sung; 
And  should  it  not  be  neat  and  plain 
Then  are  my  labors  all  in  vain. 


THE  HONEST  MECHANIC. 

I  envy  no  king,  lord,  or  great  emperor ; 

No  general  nor  doctor,  nor  man  of  the  law  ; 

No  coxcomb  his  pleasure,  no  miser  his  wealth  ; 

(I  live  not  by  cunning  nor  yet  lower  stealth.) 

I  envy  no  mortal  that  ever  was  made 

While  I'm  a  Mechanic  who  live  by  my  trade. 

Let  others  for  honor  or  fame  spend  their  days, 

Their  laurels  I  scorn  them,  my  pastime  their  praise. 

In  mis'ry  for  riches  let  some  toil  for  me, 

And  gather  vile  trash  from  the  land  and  the  sea  ; 

If  I've  money  or  merit  1  make  no  parade — 

An  honest  Mechanic  who  lives  by  his  trade. 

My  wife  is  affectionate,  loving  and  kind, 

My  children  as  worthy  as  any  you'll  find  ; 

And  as  I've  aided  them,  to  me  aid  will  they  give 

When  I  am  grown  aged.     Thus  let  me  live. 

And  may  some  friend  say  when  I'm  in  the  ground  laid. 

Here  lies  a  Mechanic  that  lived  by  his  trade." 


THE    E1SD. 


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